#maybe it's as much a mystery to us as it is to Cap'n since they sure don't know!

[odd-chips]

You know... Thank God no one's asked WHY Cap'n became an eyeless weredog yet, because I do NOT have an answer for that HDGDJGSJKL

[shyficwriter]

Temporary Home: Chapter 14

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: The guardians keep trying to include you in various activities to keep your mind off what's troubling you since you won't talk about it. However, one of these activities turns out to have a, shall we say... slightly less than desired outcome.

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: Thank you to @quillsandtypos, @theambracer88, @mcugiggles, @marvelouslyfluffy and all the anons who participated in my questionnaire post! As you probably guessed, I'll be using the answers (and any future ones, if anyone else still wants to play) to complete some fluffy scenes in the story! Also, for my records this chapter ends on day 23 of the Guardians living with reader. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4,683

Rocket, though he finally had a way to repair the device, had decided to wait a bit before actually doing so. Hell, he had waited this long, certain that his smuggling had been in vain once he found one of the parts had broken on... ahem, "departure," so what was another day or two? It was obvious they were going to be here awhile anyway, so he wasn't too rushed.

One might wonder, how was Rocket able to smuggle anything if SHIELD had searched him, already having found and confiscated contraband he had hidden in his "back pocket?"

Well, Rocket wasn't an idiot. He knew of other ways to smuggle goods on his person. Or, in his person, rather. That being said, maybe to say he wasn't an idiot might be giving him a bit too much credit... Swallowing the pieces of a small data pad might not have been exactly the safest thing to do, though he had given himself a pat on the back for rightfully assuming the Terran's wouldn't think to put him through a body scanner.

He had been damned lucky that nothing had gotten lodged or had punctured any of his innards on the way through, but hey, it worked, didn't it?

Well, mostly.

As said, a part had broken on "departure," which he of course blamed on Gamora and Mantis for rushing him in the bathroom that first day. If that bug-eyed chick didn't have such a tiny bladder then he could have allowed for a more "graceful landing."

No matter, he now had a way to fix it thanks to you. This had admittedly softened his attitude towards you the tiniest bit, though he wasn't going to admit it, nor was he going to completely let his guard down. Use of your workshop was probably just another bribe to win his favor, after all. Just like the bed. He was definitely going to take advantage of it, don't get him wrong. He wasn't just not going to use the tools available to him. Just like he wasn't going to just not sleep in the bed you built him. It was better than sleeping in the crib, though he had been grateful the crib had been left in the room when you left the bed. He had been hiding the pieces of the smuggled device under the crib's mattress -the only good use he saw for it, other than the fact that Groot actually slept pretty well in it- because boy, if the others had found out he had smuggled that in, they would have been pissed. Hence, why he wasn't in too big a hurry to fix it just yet.

Perhaps it couldn't hurt to maybe fix that broken stool in the shed for you, though. Just for a warm up, not because he thought he owed you anything, of course.

***

The evening of the check-in you had found yourself with nothing to do and back in the thoughts that had plagued you since the couple came, and you once again considered pouring yourself a glass or two of whiskey.

Yondu had been leaning against the counter enjoying a snack when he saw you retrieve the bottle from the fridge. Remembering the previous night he raised an eyebrow at you. The last thing he wanted was to witness a repeat, but thought he'd still keep an eye on you. Cut you off again before/if you started to look a little too "weepy." He had doubts that you even remembered what you'd done the previous night, and this was confirmed when he made a lighthearted comment about, "Ya goin' to take it easy tonight, or will I be needin' to cut you off again?" and you raised an eyebrow at him before saying, "What? You didn'- Oh right- I think I do remember you taking my drink now that you mention it," as you set the bottle on the table and went to retrieve a glass from the cupboard.

You now sported a slight blush and, pausing your actions, asked, "I um, didn't say or do anything embarrassing to have warranted that, did I?"

Yondu looked you right in the eye, and lied. "Nope. It was just clear ya had a bit much. Figured I'd save yer wimpy Terran liver." He laughed at your slight pout and added, "Ya just whined at me fer takin' yer drink and then fell asleep. Nuttin' too excitin'."

Yondu could see the relief on your face and it solidified his lack of regret of not telling you. Sure, he might have wanted to crack the mystery to see why you were the way you were, but not like that. He hadn't expected the previous night's display, and if anything, it made him feel like he should back off. Yes, it prompted more burning questions, but even he knew there were some things you just didn't pry into.

Around that time Peter and Kraglin came into the kitchen, messing about and horse-playing. You considered telling them to break it up, but then decided you didn't actually care enough as long as they weren't about to break anything... or anyone. You were about to make your standard polite offer of a drink when suddenly a rip was heard and Peter whined out, "Aw man! You ripped my favorite shirt!"

Sure enough, their rough-housing had managed to rip the seam along the left-shoulder of Peter's dark blue shirt, leaving a sizable hole of a couple inches long that revealed another white shirt underneath.

You rolled your eyes and told him where he could find the sewing kit.

Peter looked at you sheepishly and said, "I don't know how to sew."

You sighed and said, "I guess I'm not doing anything..." and you began to walk towards him and the exit of the kitchen, abandoning the bottle of whiskey on the table without having poured a drink.

Peter took off his ripped shirt and in a surprised voice said, "Oh!- Thanks-" starting to hand you the shirt as you walked past.

You didn't take the shirt, just looked at him as a laugh escaped your throat. "I didn't say I'd do it for you. I meant I'll teach you." With that you cocked your head towards the door and headed out towards the sitting room.

As you walked away you shook your head and muttered something Peter couldn't hear but assumed was an insult as he blushed both from embarrassment at his mistake and from hearing Yondu and Kraglin now laughing at him. He wordlessly followed, not wishing to make more of a fool of himself.

Watching Peter leave, inspiration struck Yondu. It might be overstepping, and might have been a long shot, but it was worth a try. He nudged Kraglin in the arm to get his attention. "Ya remember last night? How things got a little too..." he searched for the right word.

Kraglin finished for him, "Sad? Yeah. I remember." He caught sight of the bottle on the table. "She back at it tonight?" He and Yondu hadn't discussed what happened when he had returned to the kitchen after walking you to your room. It had gone unsaid that you were in a bad way.

"She was gonna," Yondu answered, "but then you two came in and gave her something to distract herself. Might not hurt to keep doing that for a bit."

"Ya wanna keep her busy?" Kraglin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Better than watchin' her drown herself in a bottle," Yondu replied flippantly with a shrug, but Kraglin could see through his blasé attitude.

He was slightly surprised, but not completely opposed to Yondu's suggestion. You had been drinking a lot the past few days. It didn't take a genius to see that something was obviously wrong, and he knew better that drinking like that only made sad feelings worse. If this had been the Eclector, and you part of the crew, he or Yondu would have cut you off well before now once they saw the pit you were digging. You just don't let sad people drink themselves into a stupor. It's bad form. But this wasn't the ship, and you weren't crew, and they couldn't stop you. They were in your house. They've barely known you for three weeks. He knew they couldn't just order you around, but if a little bit of distraction kept him from seeing you looking that sad again and kept you from hiding in the bottom of a bottle, he was for it.

Yondu spoke again, more or less repeating Kraglin's thoughts back at him. "I know we're on her turf, but someone's gotta do somethin'. It's bad form to just let h- to just to let a person drown like that. She needs to get her mind off what's been troubling her."

Kraglin examined the former captain's features. There was something else there. An emotion behind his eyes the first mate was familiar with after years of faithful service. Cap'n might not always be the best at admitting his softer feelings, but Kraglin knew. He could see it.

It was a look similar to the one he wore after he finished telling Rocket just how alike they were, right before they went to fight Ego. It was the same look in his eyes he had shortly after Peter came aboard the Eclector as a boy and it was decided he wasn't going to be delivered to Ego. One Kraglin even thought he recognized being on the receiving end of when he was a younger lad on the crew.

Kraglin smiled, a soft mix of understanding and sadness. "Sir," he said gently.

Yondu grunted in response and glanced at him.

"First, I do agree with ya, we should help keep her mind off it, but I just gotta say this too." He sighed before continuing. He knew Yondu wasn't going to like what he was about to say, but they were alone now, so he felt safe to say it. He knew if he said this in front of anyone else it'd a a surefire way to put Yondu dangerously close to whistling territory. "We can't be getting too attached, now."

Yondu glared at him. "Who said anythin' about-"

"Sir, all respect and all, but I think I can say I know ya better than anyone else here." Kraglin said, having cut Yondu off with a slight chuckle. "I can see it, I can tell when you're getting attached." His tone got slightly more serious, more comforting. "I don't think it'll be good for ya to get too attached, sir. We'll be leaving here eventually, and we know she ain't gonna be coming with us."

Yondu set his mouth in a firm line and stared Kraglin down hard but didn't say anything. He knew his first mate was right, but that didn't mean he had to admit it. Finally he answered with, "I ain't gettin' attached to nuttin' or nobody."

Kraglin sighed. If he knew anything else it was that Yondu could also be stubborn as hell. If he wanted to live in denial, well there wasn't a whole lot he could do about it. "Alright, sir," he said with a shake of his head. "I believe ya." He didn't, and his tone betrayed that, earning him a narrowed eyed look from Yondu, but they dropped the conversation, at least for now.

***

Showing Peter how to sew went fairly smoothly. He seemed to grasp the concept well enough, watching you sew the first third of the tear - not the easiest task with your brace on- and then repeating what you had shown him on the rest himself. He finished soon enough and thanked you before leaving the table.

However, almost immediately after that Kraglin showed up with something ripped and asked if you could teach him too. You sighed, and mildly scolded him about how come he couldn't have asked while you were showing Peter, but you agreed regardless. Again, it wasn't exactly the easiest task considering you only had a limited range of motion to move your arm, but you managed. After he finally seemed to get it (he asked a lot of questions, even if he understood, assuming it'd be helpful to keep you occupied for longer) you noticed it had gotten dark out, and you were tired anyway, and so when it looked like he had a handle on it you decided to just go to bed.

***

The next day it seemed like people just kept asking you to do things. Not like they were ordering you around, but more like asking you to do things with them, which they hadn't often done.

It wasn't all bad, but you had the feeling it wasn't just a coincidence that they were seemingly trying to keep you engaged in various tasks and activities after Maria had informed you that one of them had expressed concerns about your well-being. You didn't know if they were now acting on their own or if Fury or Agent Hill had suggested it, but either way you figured you'd just roll with it. If you made an effort maybe they'd be happy and drop it.

That morning, before you realized what was going on, Mantis came to you with a book on plants and asked you to help her identify different plants around the property. You had almost said no, perhaps another time, but then you saw the expectant look on her happy face and decided you had time to kill anyway, so what could it hurt?

It was about when you were asked by Mantis and Drax to join the others for a game of UNO that you started to suspect what was going on.

Before this, Peter had kept coming up to you wanting to show you funny videos he found, having recently discovered the YouTube app on the TV; Yondu had come to you with an archery book and tried making small-talk asking about Terran types of archery; and Gamora and Kraglin asked you to help ref while everyone sparred.

You had agreed to reffing, feeling a little better than you had been all those days you had refused and now therefore not seeing any reason not to.

It was a slight bummer though, needing to sit on the sidelines and watching others train, but you supposed watching them to see if they knew any cool 'space moves' couldn't hurt. Plus, watching how the raccoon was able to hold his own against human-sized opponents was always interesting. Groot sat with you, not being permitted to spar with the others (except for when Rocket would decide to pretend spar with him, just to make him happy) and he was adorable as he played with the grass, so it wasn't all bad.

After that everyone else was pretty much tired, but Groot came up to you with the car you had given him, holding it above his head. You raised an eyebrow and looked to Peter, who informed you that the little guy wanted you to push him on it. You did, because how could you possibly say no to that?

What was cute to Peter, however, was the fact that no one had prompted Groot to do that. He just genuinely wanted you to play with him.

After a while of playing with Groot is when Mantis and Drax had come to you about playing UNO. Now you were getting a hint of what they were doing, but you agreed to play a few games with them anyway. You even caught yourself actually starting to have fun.

Around suppertime Peter came up to you, asking if you could teach him how to cook something. He talked about how he thought it'd be fun to learn to cook more things from his home world, and also reminded you how you did say several times that he could 'help you cook later.'

You sighed and after some more prodding from Peter you finally agreed, asking him what he might like to learn how to cook.

Peter looked like a deer in the headlights before admitting that he didn't actually know. He didn't remember a whole lot of different Terran foods from when he was a kid, and he was now drawing a blank.

You nodded towards the kitchen and told him the two of you would figure it out.

After looking for a bit you decided on a vegetable stew, mostly because this had been unexpected and you hadn't pulled any meat from the freezer to thaw.

Peter was surprisingly not bad at it. He handled the knife safely, he cut the vegetables evenly, and he listened as you told him what to do and when. You wondered if he had some experience cooking before, but you didn't ask.

After dinner Gamora wouldn't take no for an answer on helping with the dishes, of course using your injury as an excuse. You sighed, but allowed it, agreeing to dry while she washed, still under the impression that if you just indulged them for a bit they'd eventually stop and start leaving you along again.

Just as you finished Peter came to the two of you asking if you wanted to see a new movie he found on Netflix.

Figuring it wouldn't hurt to make an effort, you agreed to watching a movie with them and followed into the sitting room, wondering what film he had picked out.

Turned out, he had chosen a horror movie. Candy Man.

You sighed. Obviously you weren't completely immune to jump scares, but you didn't really mind horror movies. You could even go as far to say that you enjoyed most of them. However, you were concerned about Mantis, who you could see sitting happily on the rug in front of the couch next to Rocket as you entered the room.

"Are you sure this movie is appropriate for everyone?" you ask Peter.

"What? You scARed?" Rocket taunted with a smirk, and it was then that you saw Groot on the rug as well, having been sitting in Rocket's lap.

You roll your eyes and explain that your concerns were for the wooden child and Mantis, as your time spent with them hadn't made you very confident that they would recieve a scary movie well. "I'm more concerned the movie's gonna give them nightmares," you explained as you took a seat at the end of the couch.

Gamora seemed to agree with you, but the two of you were outvoted. Rocket just rolled his eyes and snarked that he bet you were scared, and Mantis assured excitedly that she could watch it. Groot, even though you couldn't understand him, also seemed adamant. You had a feeling they didn't really know what they were getting into, but combined with the fact that Mantis was an adult, and Groot wasn't your child, and Peter was doing his best to convince you and Gamora that everything would be fine, you eventually gave in, stating, "Fine, but don't say I didn't warn you. She better not crawl into my bed tonight. I'll send her your way."

Peter just laughed and shook his head, not taking you seriously, before turning out the lights and taking a seat next to Gamora at the other end of the couch. Kraglin took the last available seat between you and Peter and Rocket smarted off again.

"If you're gonna get scared maybe Kraglin will hold your hand!" he laughed as Peter turned on the film.

You rolled your eyes at him and crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at Kraglin to give the rodent any satisfaction that he might have succeeded in embarrassing you. This, Kraglin was grateful for, because he was sort of an easy blusher, and he didn't want you to get the wrong idea. He just gave Rocket an unamused look, but he was also grateful the lights had been dimmed so that Yondu couldn't see him blushing and then tease him for it. Whether or not the former Ravager captain would actually believe Kraglin might have managed to develop feelings for you wouldn't matter. That fact that Kraglin had just told Yondu the previous night that he shouldn't be getting attached would be enough for him to jump on it and tease the hell out of him purely out of spite.

Despite the movie being old, it was still relatively new to you. You had heard about it, thought you remembered seeing a commercial or maybe a clip or two of it over the years, but this had been your first time actually watching it.

It was about halfway though and nothing terribly scary had happened yet. There was the flashback scene of a little boy having been mutilated that made you cringe, as any show that featured little kids being harmed always hit a sore spot, but it didn't really show much more than a bloody bathroom.

You were starting to think it probably wasn't going to be any real scary scenes, but then Candyman started to call the college lady's name, and it actually made you fight a shiver. You didn't know why, but creepy sounds were one of the few things from a film that could actually strike fear in your heart. Thankfully it didn't last long. You weren't looking forward to being teased for jumping or shivering at a movie that wasn't really even that scary.

At least it would mean that Mantis would be unlikely to crawl into your bed scared tonigh-

Candyman just shoved his hook through the college lady's medicine cabinet.

Half of everyone jumped, including you. Among those startled was Kraglin, and he shot you a glance that you purposely didn't return, not wanting to answer to any cocky smiles or teases accusing you of being scared.

A shot came on the screen centering on the baby Candyman took and you tensed, worried he was going to kill it, but you were relieved to see that he only let it suckle on his finger.

Kraglin felt you tense and then relax beside him, and he frowned, remembering the other night. He considered asking if you were alright, but then thought better of it and held his tongue, instead watching on as a scene played where the lady was now stuck in a mental hospital, having been believed to have killed her best friend and said baby from the previous scene.

Yondu didn't think he liked this movie, but he continued to watch in silence. He didn't want to see kids being hurt, and he had also tensed at the previous scene. Like you, he was sure that the bad guy was about to kill the baby. However, as he was sitting in his usual spot in the armchair, his tension went unnoticed.

Mantis let out a short scream when the lady summoned Candyman and he killed the psychiatrist. You sighed, realizing this wasn't looking good for her staying in her own bed tonight. Little did Peter know, you hadn't been kidding. If she tries to crawl in with you, you're sending her right to him, seeing as it would be his fault.

The lady was now exploring Candyman's lair, and you started to get a little tense at the creepy sounds of his breathing, and you mentally cursed whoever mixed the sound for this movie.

You got even more tense and fidgety when he opened his robe to reveal a ribcage full of bees. You only hoped no one noticed to tease you for it. Body horror was another thing that never failed to make you shudder.

Eventually the movie started to come to a close, a scene played where the lady's jerk ex-fiancé was having flashbacks to how good he had it with her now that she was dead, and you thought it was just going to end on a sad note.

That is, until he said her name, Helen, five times in the mirror (just like Candyman) and she came back and killed him with the Candyman's hook. Her sudden appearance made you startle slightly, and you heard more squeals from Mantis. You sighed again. Yep, she was definitely not going to sleep tonight.

The movie was finally over and Peter got up to turn on the lights. He turned to see you giving him a glare and he smiled. "What? Was it too scary for you?" he jeered.

You just pointed down to Groot. He had his head buried in Rocket's chest and was softly whimpering. "I told you that movie wasn't for kids."

Rocket scoffed at you and told you he would be fine, then turned it on you, saying how he felt you jump at least three times from where he was sitting.

You rolled your eyes and ignored him, turning to Peter and this time gesturing to Mantis, who still looked a bit shaken. "I meant what I said. She tries to crawl in bed with me, I'm sending her to you," you say, leaving to go to go get ready for bed, both because it was now late, and to avoid any inevitable further teasing from Rocket.

The others seemed to have much the same idea about bedtime, and a few of them followed you up the stairs.

You let Mantis shower first, hopeful that if you went after her that she might hopefully be asleep by the time you got out. However, when you finished your own shower, Peter had thought it'd be funny to jump-scare you as you exited the bathroom, grabbing your shoulders and shouting, "CANDYMAN'S GOTCHA!" which resulted in you jumping a mile with a noise you'd deny was a shriek before you turned to punch him in the arm scolding, "Damn you!"

He, along with Rocket, only responded by laughing their asses off at you. You thought you could also hear Drax's own booming laughter down the hall from his room, and you caught a glimpse of Yondu and Kraglin sharing amused glances and snickering from their shared room.

Your face getting warm at the fact that he had actually managed to get you pretty good, you then just storm off to your room, ignoring Rocket's teases that he bet that you'd be the one crawling into Mantis's bed tonight.

You shut the bedroom door behind you to see Mantis awake and clutching her bear for dear life. Whether she was just already awake due to nerves or you had woken her with your startled cry, you didn't know, but you flicked on your desk lamp for her, turned out your overhead light and crawled into bed without a word.

Sometime later, long enough for you to have drifted off into a decently sound enough sleep to be dreaming, you were startled awake by someone crawling into your bed.

Guess who. That's right. Mantis.

You groaned and turned to see she had already crawled halfway into your bed before you stopped her by rousing. "Mantis," you groaned, pointing towards the door, "go climb into Peter's bed. He's the one that chose the movie."

Mantis tucked her chin sheepishly and admitted she had already tried that, but his and Gamora's door had been locked.

You stared at the ceiling and sighed. Clever bastard.

You made a mental note to squirt lemon juice in his coffee in the morning before letting out another groan. "Ugh, fine. But just this once," you allowed, ignoring the fact that this would actually technically be the second time. You were also not actually quite as salty as you let on. If anything, you should maybe thank her for waking you from a bad dream involving the Candyman's ribcage full of bees, but you weren't going to tell her that.

She smiled gratefully and thanked you as she snuggled in.

You sighed quietly and Mantis fell asleep quickly. At least she didn't snore.

You spent the next bit before you fell asleep yourself contemplating different ways that you might be able to annoy Peter for sufficient payback.

[ballgame]

Okay so I had a really weird Deltarune dream last night

So in the dream I was talking to someone about the game because I was planning to write about the game's story for school. They were also a fan and they mentioned to me that a new secret had been found in the game, sort of a Snowgrave-esque alternate path. I decided to check it out on my own via a set of instructions.

So what you had to do is play Ch. 2 with a Dark Candy carried over into your inventory from your Ch. 1 playthrough, I know this isn't possible in the actual game but in the dream a single Dark Candy will carry over if you had any. I don't think it could be done if you simply bought one from Seam in Castle Town but who knows honestly.

So you'd have to keep that Dark Candy in your inventory until the Sweet Cap'n Cakes fight, where you'd have to let Kris be downed. That's where the events of the game diverge, instead of Susie and Ralsei doing the actions upon their own accord they'll have the same conversation but you the player will have to select the S and R-Actions for them from the get-go. Instead of continuing the battle normally, use the battle turn to give Ralsei the Dark Candy. He'll deny it at first, saying he doesn't want it (since Kris is downed is he talking to the Player?) but you only need to command him to eat it a second time for him to accept it. He does so and one of two things will happen. In the dream I performed the same actions twice with no differences in my steps but got these two separate outcomes for reasons I do not know, I was confused even in the dream.

The first outcome has the screen go dark with the other sprites disappearing and Ralsei's sprite moving to the middle of the screen. Sort of reminiscent of Chara's appearance at the end of Undertale's No Mercy route. He'll perform a special eating animation and then his sprite changes, no animation for that I think it just switches abruptly. He turns into this orange guy, sort of knight-ish looking with maybe wings and a tail? Either a classic devil or dragon motif for sure. A name flashes above his head, sadly I cannot remember what it was but I assume that was the name of whoever he turned into. I'm keen to call him Avalon or something like that. He thanks Kris (maybe the Player?) for doing that, his "voice" in this form is much deeper further signifying that he's outright turned into a different person. Maybe this is supposed to be his true form?

The second outcome is practically the same but what happens to Ralsei after he eats the Dark Candy is different. His sprite will start to distort, like different pixels blown up or rotated or something. Not your typical glitch effect, more like Ralsei's body is literally supposed to be shifting like it's made out of goo. He doesn't actually end up changing that much though, he simply ends up in a new outfit. Something similar to what Spamton and Mystery Man wear. He once again thanks Kris/Player, but this time he explicitly thanks them for "freeing" him.

I don't know what happens after either outcome, I stopped playing the game immediately after both tries so I guess the game just shuts down or something. Also, for reasons unknown I was doing all of this on a laptop while sitting in a bathtub and when I finished the bathtub had filled up a bit and some tadpoles were swimming around in the water, both at different stages in development. Dream me assumed that somehow the game did that.

[fnf-brain-rot]

We're In This Together [Pico's School AU] Chapter 1 - New Kid

Pico let out a loud, droned out groan at the kitchen table. He hated school so bad, just thinking about having to go made him wanna bash his skull into a brick wall. "Boy if you don't shut all that noise up and eat your cereal." Darnell's mother, Clarissa, snapped from the sink. Darnell choked a little bit on his cinnamon toast crunch, and Pico pouted, lowering his head over his half eaten bowl of Cap'n crunch.

"What, did you remember we had a test today or something?" Darnell asked him. PIco's eyes damn there bulged from his sockets, and he dropped his spoon dramatically. "We have a test today??" He breathed, and Darnell snorted again. "No, I was asking you if you knew." Pico huffed in response, slouching in his chair. The only thing that could make this Tuesday worse would be a test. At least he didn't have that. This asshole scared him.

Well not scared, startled.

two very different things.

Darnell got up from his seat, grabbing his bowl and Pico's to give to give his mother, mouthing "You owe me." To the ginger. Pico let out Thankful hum, then got up as well. He'd return the favor by bringing his his backpack to the front for him when he went back to grab his own. It was still morning. They weren't even in school yet. This day was gonna take forever..

________________________________________________________________________________

Darnell and Pico were on time today, finally. Nene stood by the staircase, chatting with some red haired girl they've never seen. Now this girl, Pico damn there fell head over heels instantly. She was wearing a cute little jumper, a bright red shirt under the suspenders. She had on little red boots, and her hair was up in a ponytail. Her skin was a nice, soft peach color, and she even had a natural blush??

Darnell and Pico looked at each other, the other seeming to have noticed her natural beauty as well. "I call dibs."

"What? You don't call dibs on a person asshole!" Darnell pushed him, but that only propelled the boy forward, enough to make a complete fucking fool of himself. He tripped over his own foot as he took a step forward, falling face first into the pavement right in front of the girl's feet. "Pico! What the fuck!" Nene barked, but stopped when the girl in front of them gasped softly. "Oh no, are you okay?" She lifted him by his arm, resisting the urge to giggle at his dumbstruck face.

Pico stared at her for a moment, then his eyes lidded, and he lowered his voice. "Hey.." He tried to sound smooth, but a deep voice just wasn't going for him right now. She giggled, and helped him up. "Oh gosh, your nose is bleeding. Do you wanna go to the nurse?" She pulled a tissue from her pocket and held it to his nose. His face was red as a bitch, and he knew it. "No! I can handle it! I've been through worse!" He sniggered, but took the tissue.

"Sorry for this dumbass causing trouble." Darnell walked up to the three, pushing past the ginger, who only cried out "Hey!" He took his victory though. She thought he was funny. "No, it's fine. It's kinda cute." She admitted sheepishly. "I guess you would have to meet these two idiots at some point." Nene grumbled. What, did she not want them to meet this mystery girl? Selfish! "This is Darnell. He burns stuff." She pointed to the brown skinned male, who waved awkwardly. "And this is Pico. He breaks stuff." She pointed at he who stared the girl down so hard, his bleeding nose seemed to mean something else at some point.

"Like his nose?"

"Exactly! Like his nose!" Nene giggled, and Pico glared at her. "I don't break my nose that often!" He growled at her, puffing his cheeks. "You don't seem to be proving that right now." Pico almost tackled her, but paused when the other girl started talking again. "You guys can call me Gigi. I'm in Mr. Lawrence's class." She then introduced herself. God her voice was like lying on a bed of flowers..

"Well it's nice to meet you Gigi! Hope we can hang out and Nene doesn't hog you all to herself." Darnell spoke the last few words through grit teeth, and Nene huffed irritably. She probably would have hogged her all to herself if they were late again.

"Speaking of class, we should get going before we're late. Again." Darnell grabbed Nene by the arm, who cried out in protest, then grabbed Pico's arm. Gigi waved as the two were dragged off, kicking and cursing the shit out of their buddy. Pico wouldn't be done with her..

________________________________________________________________________________

They did have a test today.

Pico groaned loudly and slammed his head on his desk at the announcement. Darnell poked his head over, laughing a little at how dramatic he was. "At least it's a test." He tried to reassure him. "Man you know I'm shit at Math." Pico grumbled back, his angry little pout returning for the umpteenth time today.

"Now, now, settle down." Mrs. Fee began to speak, thankfully quieting the class. They were giving Pico a fucking headache. "We have a new student joining our homeroom today."

"Oooooh, hope it's another girl." Darnell nudged Pico's leg with his own. Yeah right, Pico didn't need another girl. That other one has already chosen him.

Is what he would have said if he wasn't looking the new kid dead in the face.

It wasn't a girl, no. It was a boy. His hair was a bright blue, almost nauseating to look at, sure, but his eyes took away from that. He couldn't tell if they had color, from where he was sitting. they were dark, but the confident little smirk on his face spoke for them. His skin was pale, but not as much as Pico's. A comfortable milky white.

He was short as fuck, it almost made him laugh. He pretty much looked like he was nine or something. He could already tell it suits him though.. He had a nice style to him, baggy jeans and a white tee shirt with a red circle with a line through it, messily painted on. Or maybe it was supposed to look like that.

"Beep!" The entire class seemed taken aback when he spoke. "Um.. Can you use.. words?" Mrs. Fee visibly began to sweat nervously. He must have been speaking like this for a while. "Boop bep!" He chirped to her in response, his hands comfortably tucked away in his pockets.

He was.. kinda cute..

"Well, class.. this is uh.. our new student.. I'm sure you'll learn his name.. eventually." Mrs. Fee laughed nervously, rubbing her hands together as the strange boy eagerly made his way to the nearest open seat, hopping up just a small bit to sit down on it. He kicked his legs as he began to pull his supplies out of his backpack. How unlucky for him to be shipped in on a test day. Bah, lucky bastard probably won't have to take it.

"Looks like we got a new freak to add to the codex, huh?" Darnell leaned over and joked lightly. Pico scoffed. "You don't know that, he could be cool.." he mumbled the last part under his breath. "You don't even know him and you're defending him? You must have caught feelings." Nene giggled childishly. "Yo, really? Man, you're lookin' desperate. First the girl from earlier, now him?" Darnell teased him as well, and Pico's face flushed red. "No you ass fuckers!" He seethed quietly.

"Ewwwwwwwww~" His friends cooed to each other, sniggering like little kids, which technically they are, but that's not the point! The point is he's about to bite both of hem!

"Shut the fuck up.." Pico put his head on his desk, covering it with his arms. Later he found out he was right. That little blue haired midget didn't have to take the test since he just got there. Meanwhile he's left to suffer.

Boring test stuff, blah blah, Pico got a C, Darnell and Nene got an easy A, and they tease him, yeah yeah. Once they walk outside those doors he's gonna punch the shit outta both of them.

And he did.

"Ow!! Why didn't you just do it in the classroom!?" Darnell rubbed his arm in front of his locker, and Nene rubbed hers. "Because I didn't feel like getting yelled at again, fuck off." Pico retorted bitterly. He hadn't been able to stop looking at the guy. He watched him walk down the hall, holding his backpack to his chest. He was so cute and small, he wanted to hold him..

Wait.. Where'd he go?

His eyes swept across the crowd for a sign of the little guy. He disappeared. Gone with the wind. What a ninja. "I'll be back." The ginger lightly patted Darnell's arm, and he made a face. "From where??" He called out, but Pico didn't answer. He kept walking, moving down the hall quickly, pushing past other students to get where he needed to.

________________________________________________________________________________

There he was, sitting at a picnic table outside. He pulled out a phone to do.. whatever the fuck he was doing. Pico would admit, he's hella interested in this beep boopin' fella.

"Yo, uh.." Pico started, having slowly approached the table. The small boy jumped with a gasp, then turned to look at Pico, his cheeks flushing slightly red in embarrassment. "Woah, didn't mean to scare ya." Pico laughed a little, and the boy pouted. "Beep boop.." He mumbled in response. Pico tilted his head. "That a new language I never heard of?" He asked him. He shook his head.

"Beep bop."

"So you just.. say it just to say it..?"

"Bep!"

"That sounded like "yep" so I'll take that answer."

The strange boy giggled a little. It seemed he was right anyway. "I'm uh.. Pico, by the way. You got a name?"

"Bee!"

"Is.. That another noise or is your name Bee?"

The smaller puffed one of his cheeks in frustration. Well.. Pico could be patient, it's okay. It was still super weird though. "Bee." He said again. "Bee, gotcha. Cute." Pico snurked a bit to himself, and the other's cheeks flushed once more. "Well, we still have class.. uh.. I have History next, you?" Bee nodded. Wow, what a coincidence. "Well come on you dip, we'll be late." He urged him. Bee puffed his cheek again, but gathered his stuff, quickly typing on his little phone before putting it away.

Pico had started walking to the doors again, and turned around to see Bee scurrying after him. He must have been real clumsy or something, more so than Pico. Great, he had another person to laugh at other than himself when they fell.

Pico learned a lot a lot about Bee in History. Funnily enough, they sat by each other It didn't seem like he had any friends, or knew anyone at all. Good thing he met him first. Any other asshole to put their hands on him would have tainted him immediately. Of course Pico would be the best first-friend this kid would have.

Bee wasn't very talkative, but man he was doing everything but the work. It's like he couldn't focus for more than a minute before spacing out again, and by then they've moved to the next slides. Then he would ask to copy off Pico's notes. He respected the hustle, but jeez, not a single page on his own?

The next class he had with him was P.E. This kid was not very athletic.. At all. His shoes managed to be untied half the time, so he couldn't even run around outside if he wanted to. He watched him fall flat on his face twice now. Twice. In the span of five minutes. Pico, Nene, and Darnell met back up P.E, so he was hanging with them under a tree. He couldn't leave the awkward goofball by himself though.

"That's.. kinda sad.." Darnell murmured as he watched the boy fall for the third time ten minutes later. "I'ma go get him." Pico sighed lightly. Nene and Darnell didn't have time to stop him before he jogged over to him. Apparently some of the girls thought it would be funny to laugh at him. Surprisingly, Bee was laughing too. Maybe he didn't know they were laughing at him. "Bee!" The ginger called, and he looked up from the grass.

The girls damn there scattered when they saw Pico. He had a bit of a destructive reputation. His father was proud. "Come on, can I take you to some of my friends? They're cool, I promise." He offered a hand to help him up. "Beep!" Bee thankfully took it. Still with the bobbity bops? They've at least spoken for a whole day at this point. Is this not how romantic comedies work?

Pico led him over to the duo, who watched nervously. They were prepared to laugh if the little dude fell over again. Pico couldn't blame them. He was too.

"Nene, Darnell, this is Bee. He still beeps."

"Beep boop!"

Darnell seemed astonished, probably getting the urge to write down notes or something. "Do you speak english?" Nene asked him awkwardly. She probably didn't want to ask that, knowing full well sometimes people ask her the same shit. Kids were stupid. Bee nodded, and it made her more confused. "You.. Then.. the beeping.." She trailed off, and Bee simply gave her a knowing smirk. He seemed to do that a lot.

"Just call him Bee. Also dude tie your fucking shoes." Pico elbowed the smaller in the arm, going back over to sit by Darnell, who was now watching the boy intensely for his next words. "Skdoo bep.." Bee laughed sheepishly, bending over to do so. That's a new sound. Skdoo. Hah, funny. "Is it like.. your own way to communicate because you don't wanna speak english?" Darnell suddenly asked, which made Bee gasp and shoot up, completely forgetting about his shoes. "Beep! Boop Beep!" He pointed at the brown skinned boy and nodded.

"THAT MAKES EVEN LESS SENSE!" Nene cried out exasperatedly, tugging at her hair in despair. She had a point there. It would make it easier for everyone else if he would just talk in a way they could understand. However, if he didn't want to, he didn't have to. Plus Pico liked the sound it made. It was kinda.. musical.

"Wait, are you holding a microphone? Where did that even come from?" Pico suddenly pointed out. Bee turned around, pushing his hands against his pants and into the back pocket. Those were some.. deep ass pockets. Maybe that's why he wore baggy pants.. To sneak that in there. "You like to sing?" Darnell asked curiously. The boy nodded vigorously. The three seemed to lean to attention, waiting for him to do something.

Bee blinked, but seemed to get the memo after another moment of silence. He gave his little smirk, then cleared his throat. Much to the group's disappointment, what came out weren't words, just more.. unintelligible noises, however that changed when they heard how he sounded. The noises made a little melody together, to the sound of a show they would all watch at three in the morning. It sounded... Good?? Not the best but he was just a kid after all.

"Wow that was really pretty!" Nene gushed lightly, causing Bee to blush a little. He had hella confidence, it was admirable. "You might just become a singer in the future if you keep working at it." Pico sniggered lightly. That must have been a genuine compliment to Bee, since he gently kicked the dirt and looked down with his hands behind his back. "We're gonna need to hear more from you." Nene then demanded. Bee nodded eagerly, and started the next song he had in mind.

________________________________________________________________________________

He had sang to them for the rest of P.E. It put Pico to sleep, so he was startled when Bee woke him up. He had looked up to see students retreating back inside, and was urged to follow by his friends.

Just like the day before, Pico, Nene, and Darnell were walking home together. Bee was a rider, meaning his parents or whoever came to pick him up. It was a regular routine, the three stopping by the park, hijacking the playground, and hanging around.

Pico relaxed on his favorite spot near the slide, watching Nene play on the monkey bars, and Darnell sat by him after getting off the swings. "Things are weird." Pico suddenly spoke up, which seemed to startle Darnell. "What do you mean?"

"It feels like something is gonna happen."

"Gee, did I scare you with the warzone talk?"

"No, dumbass!" Pico socked Darnell's shoulder, who lightly laughed at him. "It felt like.. something was following us yesterday."

"Now you're really paranoid." Darnell sucked air through his teeth. "I'm not! I saw something! What if... I mean.. I'm not scared. I can handle anything.." Pico rolled his eyes. He knew he was the shit, no one needed to make him second guess that. "Come on, let's go home before it gets dark again. Someone is afraid of the dark." Darnell called to Nene, a smug look on his face as he looked back to Pico. "Shut the hell up!" Pico huffed loudly, damn there launching himself off the play set. They were gonna tease him about this forever. Whatever, he knew what he saw. He just wasn't scared of it.

Later that night he texted his dads to stay safe, but at the same time protect the city like they always do. His father, of course, sent a kitten gif that said "best son" at the bottom. He laughed quietly under his blanket, but quickly turned off his phone and pretended to be asleep when Clarissa opened their bedroom door, poking her head in. "Night boys." Her voice was gentle, and Pico found himself smiling a little. Yeah. Everything was fine.

[thelighthousemp3]

in the spirit of halloween, i’d like to bring back a b99 heist fic i wrote a year ago!! haven’t been able to get much writing time in this year, so here it is from last year!

finders keepers, losers weepers

12:00 AM, October 31, The Bullpen, Object of Heist Unnamed

"H-h-heist time!" Jake calls. It's officially 12:00 AM of October 31, and he rolls out from under his desk fully dressed and tangled up in a red blanket. Jake quickly stands up and kicks the blanket and his pillow back under his desk. A light quickly flickers on in Captain Holt's office, right as the elevator door opens to reveal Amy Santiago-Peralta. She is in her sergeant's uniform, and she sends an evil smile towards Jake.

Jake immaturely sticks his tongue out at her. He swivels around and looks towards Captain Holt's office. He is sitting at his desk, glancing at Jake as well. Jake glares right back at both of them, and Amy quickly steps out of the elevator before it closes.

Suddenly, there is a loud thumping sound coming from the ceiling. Part of the ceiling pops open and out tumbles a ruffled -looking Charles Boyle.

"Guys! You're here! I'm on team Jake!" he says ecstatically, brushing what looks to be chicken feathers off of his shirt.

As Charles stands up, loud music ripples through the bullpen and reveals Gina Linetti, all wrapped up in her unicorn blanket. Except that she's not alone under the blanket.

A mess of curly black hair pops up and Rosa Diaz scowls at her coworkers. Gina shrugs the blanket off of them. "We're gonna win, bitches, so don't even think about―"

"Winning? That's my specialty," Terry Jeffords grins. He's wearing sweatpants and a white tank top, and he has emerged from a supply closet.

"Is everyone here? Staying in the bullpen overnight was my idea. I waited until you all left!" Jake whines. "I mean, at least Hitchcock and Scully actually went home."

"Actually, no. They're in the break room. Sleeping," Rosa says, and Jake frowns.

"Dammit! I thought I could count on those two, for once," Jake says. "Come on! None of you guys actually even went home?"

"I went home," Amy says. "Just to confirm that you weren't coming home."

"Yeah, okay, Ames. Why are you in your uniform? I mean, don't get me wrong; you look the hottest in it, but why?" Jake asks.

Amy shrugs. "I felt like it. Gonna carry out this heist in style," she says, rolling out the y. Amy unconsciously brushes off the sides of her uniform, and catches Jake staring. She rolls her eyes at him.

Jake quickly turns away and pulls half of a crushed bagel out of his pockets. "Well, at least I brought breakfast. Does anyone have any cream cheese? Or nutella?" Jake says, biting into his bagel.

"I brought breakfast too!" Charles exclaims. He scrambles to his desk and pulls out a large lunchbox. "Caviar and salmon pancakes, pigeon feet with bacon―"

Gina wrinkles her nose. "Please, do not eat any of that in front of us. Anyways, what are we gonna steal this year?"

Right on cue, Captain Holt emerges from his office, carrying a badge. "This is Sergeant Jefford's badge."

Terry's jaw drops as he glares at Captain Holt. "My badge! How'd you get that!"

"A heist master never reveals his secrets," Captain Holt says mysteriously. "Anyways, the objective of this year's heist is so steal Sergeant Jefford's badge. We do have some ground rules now, though. No one is allowed to put a tracker on the object of the heist. No one is allowed to put a tracker on each other. No cheating."

"Sir, what exactly do you mean by cheating?" Jake asks.

"I don't care, Peralta, just no cheating," Captain Holt says. "Now, Sergeant Jefford's badge will be put right here, in the middle of the bullpen." Captain Holt walks to the center of the bullpen, where a stand has already been set up. "Also, another rule that I had forgot to mention― You are not allowed to steal the badge and drive it to Kansas."

"Damn it!" Rosa says. "How'd you know?"

"You are not very good at hiding your notepads," Captain Holt tells her. Rosa rolls her eyes.

"Whatever. I'll drive it to Texas instead," Rosa mutters quietly under her breath, so that no one is able to hear her. She shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her leather jacket.

"Don't worry. I have a better plan," Gina says to her, and kisses her on the cheek. Rosa's face softens and she gazes at Gina, until they both catch sight of Terry's eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. Rosa glares at him. Terry puts two thumbs up and smiles joyfully at her.

"Teams!" Jake says. "Charles, you're with me. And if you dare give away my plan, then I will become best friends with Doug Judy forever and ever," Jake threatens.

"Sergeant Jeffords. I choose you for my team," Captain Holt says. Terry nods and goes to stand by Captain Holt's side.

"Well, I choose Rosa and Gina!" Amy yelps quickly.

"Not fair! I wanted Gina!" Jake complains. "You can't do that!"

"Yes she can," Gina says, examining a sharp purple nail. "Rosa and I come as a set. You can't separate us."

Rosa scowls, but she doesn't move to deny Gina's claim. They both walk over to stand by Amy.

"What about us? The numbers are uneven," Jake complains loudly.

"You guys can have Hitchcock and Scully," Rosa says. "Hitchcock! Scully! Wake. Up." Rosa calls, and a minute later, they stumble out of the break room, rubbing their eyes.

"Ugh, fine," Jake says. "Scully, you're on my team."

Captain Holt wrinkles his nose. "Hitchcock, you are the only one left, so I suppose that you are on my team," he says. Terry is vigorously shaking his head and mouthing the words no no no no no.

"Let the heist begin!" Jake calls enthusiastically as soon as Terry's badge is in its place a the center of the bullpen.

"Can Scully and I go back to sleep? If we don't get seventeen hours of sleep, then―"

"I don't wanna hear it, Hitchcock. We're going to win this heist," Terry says.

"Aw, man," Hitchcock scowls. He looks sadly towards Scully, who shrugs.

"Okay, back to work, everyone!" Captain Holt calls. "This precinct is not going to run itself."

"You got it, Cap'n," Jake says, pulling Charles along with him. Charles waves enthusiastically to Amy, who aggressively pulls both Rosa and Gina by their arms to a storage room.

12:16 AM, October 31,  The Storage Room With That Blue Couch, Object of Heist in Bullpen

"No, no, no! What are you doing, Amy! This place is probably bugged! This isn't where we should meet to talk about our secret plan! Someone will figure out what we're going to do!" Gina scolds.

"Yeah," Rosa says, "Gina's right. Jake or the Captain or someone is probably listening to us right now," Rosa says, pulling out her phone. She quickly types something into the notepad app, and shows it to Amy and Gina, who nod.

12:17 AM, October 31, Captain Holt's Office, Object of Heist in Bullpen

Meanwhile, Captain Holt and Terry both meet in the Captain's office with all of the blinds down. Hitchcock has passed out on the couch in Holt's office, and Holt eyes him with contempt.

"Sergeant Jeffords."

"Captain Holt."

"We play to win," Captain Holt dictates.

"I agree, sir," Terry says. "Also, I can't afford to lose my badge. I need that thing."

"Ah, yes. It may be tossed around from team to team if we do not get to it first. Which is why we are going to get to it first. Do you have a plan, Sergeant?" Holt asks, looking at Terry in the eye.

"Uh, no? Terry hasn't had much time― or sleep― to think of a plan," Terry says with uncertainty.

"I thought so. Which is why I have been planning this heist since the second heist that ever took place in this precinct. I've been planning next year's heist for even longer, but right now we must focus on today." Captain Holt grabs a binder from the shelf behind him and flips it open. "I have everything in this binder right here," he says.

"Sir," Terry says, looking down at the binder. Captain Holt follows his gaze down to the binder. It is empty, except for a button. The button is black and purple with white letters on it. It says, TEAM SANTIAGO 2K18 on it in bold letters.

"Santiago," Captain Holt hisses. "She's played me as well as Joanna Newsom plays the harp."

Terry looks at Captain Holt in confusion. "Um, anyways, what do we do now?"

"We may not have any intel on Santiago's team, but we sure do have some good stuff on Peralta," Captain Holt says.

"Uh, sir, they're both called Peralta's," Terry says. "They got married, remember?"

"Yes, yes, but how will you know who I am referring to when I say Peralta?" Captain Holt reasons.

"Good point."

12:22 AM, October 31, The Bullpen, Object of Heist in Bullpen

Two minutes later, Jake wheels his chair over to Charles's desk. "Dude. We have to win this," Jake says.

"And I agree with you totally, Jakey!" Charles says, munching on a strange looking snack that Jake would rather not ask about. "Anyways, Jake, I've been planning this for a month now. I've actually been planning out all of my future Halloween costumes since I was ten years old―"  

"Buddy, buddy. I've been planning this heist for like the last two years. And let me tell you, I've got some very good stuff," Jake begins. Charles looks on eagerly as Jake leans in closer. "So, what I know, is that Amy's team knows what Holt's going to be up to. Holt's going to find out that Amy knows, and he's going to proceed to do exactly what he thinks Amy thinks he's not going to do. You following along?"

"Yup," Charles says. "Would you like an oyster leg?"

"Gah, no! Anyways, the thing is, that Amy knows that he's going to do that. She knows Captain Holt very well. Maybe even better than Kevin. Augh, no, scratch that, she probably doesn't know Holt better than Kevin. Which brings us to our next step―"

12:30 AM, October 31, Babylon, Object of Heist in Bullpen

Gina sniffs a rose-scented candle and then lights it with a pocket lighter that she apparently keeps on the windowsill of the secret bathroom.

"Rose-scented candles?" Amy asks in disbelief, looking at Rosa. Rosa shrugs, inhaling the air.

"It was Gina's idea."

"Because they remind me of Diaz," Gina says, standing up. "Anyways, what's the plan here? Rosa and I were thinking that we would just take the badge, run, get onto her bike, and ride to Kansas," Gina pitches.

"Gina, that's against the rules," Amy says. “Besides, I've been working on this forever. I know what's going to happen. It's actually pretty simple, you see."

"Then do tell, Amy," Rosa says. "What's going to happen?"

"Well, you know how I'm always talking about binders?" Amy asks, twirling a lock of hair around her fingers.

Rosa snorts. "You're always talking about binders."

Amy pulls out a thick maroon binder from behind her. Rosa's jaw drops open.

"Where the hell did that come from? I know you're obsessed with binders, but you literally did not have one like two seconds ago. Where do you keep them?"

"In your bra," Gina snorts. She is still turned away from Rosa and Amy.

"I stole it," Amy says breathlessly. Gina turns around and gapes at her.

"You, Amy Boring Pantsuits Santiago-Peralta, stole something? This is something new. Oh my gosh, this is going to make headlines!" Gina trills.

"It's not like I stole it from a stationary store or anything," Amy snaps. "It's Holt's. Since I've always talked about binders, he's started to organize stuff like me. In binders. And I just happen to know that he's been working on this one for a very long time, and it's all about this year's Halloween Heist."

"That's even better! Holt is like your idol, and you stole from him! Oh, this is some scalding-hot tea!" Gina cackles, dropping the small lighter back onto the windowsill.

Rosa stares at the binder."Oh, my god, Santiago, you have outdone yourself."

"But, like, won't Holt notice that it's missing?" Gina asks.

"Well, not at first he won't. I've bought a replica binder and put it in this binder's spot. Remember the button maker that you got me one time, Rosa? I made some kick-ass buttons from it." Amy pulls out a bunch of pins from her pockets. They're black, which white letters outlined in purple.

"Team Santiago 2k18. Nice," Rosa comments, taking one.

"Why isn't it like, Team Linetti 2k Gay Teen?" Gina asks. Amy shrugs, and hands one to Gina, who pins it onto her hip. Rosa puts hers on her left arm, and Amy pins hers to her collar. Amy puts her hand out, and Rosa and Gina stack their hands on top.

"Team Santiago 2k―"

"Gay Teen!" Gina cuts in, and Rosa laughs. "Let's do this, team. Actually, what's next?" Gina asks, with a surprising amount of interest, at least, for Gina Linetti.

"I put a button in Holt's binder, so he'll know it's me. And basically, he'll know that I've got his binder and his plan, so what he's going to do is obviously the opposite of what he's got planned. But I know that, and I am so prepared for that." Amy puts a hand on her own button, wearing the proudest Santiago smile that she's ever worn. "You have out done yourself, Amy," she says to herself.

12:45 AM, October 31, Captain Holt's Office, Object of Heist in Bullpen

"So, Jeffords, we must have to do something irrational. Something that Santiago would never expect. She is the real enemy right now," Captain Holt says.

"What about Jake and Charles?" Terry asks. Holt waves his hand.

"We'll see. I'm sure Peralta has got something up his sleeve. More specifically, he's going to use a fire extinguisher to distract us and get the badge. Except, he won't be able to if we get it first," Captain Holt says.

"How didya know that?" Terry asks in astonishment.

"It has taken me only five and a half months to plant the idea in his head, but it is there all right, Sergeant. So the next thing that we are going to do is get this badge."

"I like this plan," Terry says. "So, how are we gonna grab my badge? Distraction?"

"No. I grab it. I run. You, Sergeant, carry me, and we're going to hide it where it's safe."

"It's like one in the morning. Captain, are you thinking this through?" Terry asks.

"Of course not! Thinking it through is what Santiago wants! We can't give her what she wants. Not again, " Captain Holt says.

"Aaand, title of your sex tape!" Jake's voice echoes through the room.

"Peralta? Where are you? Are you in my ceiling?" Captain Holt says warily.

"Nope! I'm in the bullpen!" Jake's voice calls. Terry gestures to Captain Holt's laptop. Holt suddenly realizes what is going on.

"Peralta, you sick son of a bitch," he mutters, and picks of his laptop, throwing it against the opposite wall as hard as as he can. It smashes and clutters onto the floor in a jumble of pieces. "Take that, son."

1:00 AM, October 31, The Bullpen, Object of Heist is…  I Don't Even Know

"Now, Charles!" Jake calls. Charles presses the button on some sort of remote, and suddenly, many, many fire extinguishers all go off at once, concealing the badge from sight. Jake dashes off towards it.

"Not on my watch, Peralta!" Captain Holt roars, and leaps at Jake. Team Santiago 2k Gay Teen leaps to their feet in surprise.

"Rosa! Rosa, go! " Amy says, shoving Rosa into the confusion. Rosa runs towards Jake, effectively tackling him to the floor. Captain Holt swivels into both of them, and the three crash onto the floor.

"Aw, no, Rosa! You have most definitely ruined my plan! What am I going to do now?" Jake says haughtily, wiping fire extinguisher gunk from his face.

"Peralta, you monster. Where's Boyle?" Rosa shouts, and Amy spot him quickly slipping inside of the elevator. "Stairs, Santiago, take the stairs! " Rosa screams. Amy comes to her senses and turns quickly, running down the stairs as quickly as she can.

Rosa looks down to see Jake grinning underneath her. He pushes her off and stands up, wiping his jeans off. Rosa groans.

"This was my good leather jacket. You're gonna pay for this, Jake," Rosa says.

"No, I'm not. I'm gonna win. You guys aren't!" Jake says cheerfully.

Rosa rolls her eyes. "No, I mean that you're actually gonna pay for a visit to the dry-cleaner's," Rosa says, punching him in the arm.

"Oh. Okay, then."

"Move," Rosa says, pushing him away. She stands up and runs to the stairs, catching a glimpse of Terry bounding down the stairs. "Terry!" Rosa screams, and jumps. A split second later, she lands on his back, and Terry shouts.

"Diaz! I am your superior officer! You can't just―"

"Detective Diaz, I am your superior officer. Bone. I've heard it all, Jeffords," Rosa says monotonously.  What are you and Holt planning!" Rosa holds onto Terry's shoulders as he vigorously tries to shake her off.

"Nothin'! We're not planning anything. What are you planning, Diaz?"

"I'm here!" A voice calls out. Gina Linetti appears in front of them, and points to Amy, who has tackled Charles to the ground and is valiantly trying to grab the badge.

"Where did Gina come from?" Terry mutters.

"Magic," Gina whispers. They all snap their attention back to Amy, who has let out a shout.

She manages to pry the badge out of Charles's sweaty fingers. Amy struggles to her feet and barely has a split second to start on her victory dance, before Charles tries pulling Amy back down and onto the floor.

"Rosa!" Amy screams, preparing to launch the badge in the air. Rosa leaps to catch it as soon as it leaves Amy's hands, but the badge swivels in the other direction and towards Gina. Gina fumbles with it for a moment before grasping onto it tightly.

"Snake eyes! Terry hates snake eyes!" Terry says furiously.

"Run, Gina!" Rosa calls, and Gina sprints with the badge and to her car. It won't unlock, and both Charles and Terry are gaining on her. Rosa's motorcycle is parked right next to Gina's car, so Gina mounts it as soon as Rosa tosses her the keys with a meaningful look.

"Gina, no! You don't know how to―" Terry calls.

"How hard can it be?" Gina calls glamorously,  and the motorcycle whizzes to life. Surprisingly well, Gina rides the bike out of the garage and out into the streets. She disappears from view a moment later, and Charles crumples to the ground, wheezing.

Rosa is still covered in fire extinguisher substance, so she gladly accepts the napkin that Amy offers to her. "How did Gina do that?" Amy asks in astonishment.

"I gave her a few lessons about how to ride a motorcycle," Rosa says. "Also, I know where she'll be, because I have a tracker on my bike. Holt only said no trackers on people, object of heist, blah blah blah," Rosa say, watching Charles and Terry aggressively argue with each other.

"Come on. Let's go," Amy says, and they trudge towards the elevator.

2:00 AM, October 31, The Bullpen, Object of Heist in the Possession of Gina Linetti

"Okay, where the hell could Gina be?" both Terry and Jake mutter at their desks at the same time. Charles shrugs from Jake's side of the bullpen. He is currently wearing a costume, and no one can tell who he is.

"Okay, Charles. I give up. Who or what the hell are you?" Jake asks.

"Alain Ducasse! You know, famous French chef? He's so cool. Once, Genevieve went to his restaurant in Paris, and she said it was awesome. I'm dying to go," Charles explains.

"Well, what about Gina getting away, huh?" Jake says moodily.

"I didn't even knew that she could ride! That was so cool!"

Jake, Rosa, and Captain Holt have all changed into fresh clothes, and the Captain sits with Terry at Terry's desk. They discuss further plans of what to do, and Amy and Rosa sit atop of Rosa's desk. Rosa looks at her phone, and tilts the screen towards Amy.

"She's at your place?" Amy whispers.

"Ssshh!" Rosa hisses.

"Sorry."

"Let's get out of here," Rosa says. Amy and Rosa both slyly creep out of the bullpen and down the stairs. They take Amy's car, since Rosa's bike has gone with Gina, and head over to Rosa's place.

2:20 AM, October 31, Rosa's Apartment, Object of Heist in the Possession of Team Santiago 2k Gay Teen

Gina is there, curled up in Rosa's bed. She is fast asleep, and she clutches Terry's badge to her chest as she sleeps. Rosa creeps over to her quietly, careful not to wake her. She pries the badge from Gina's sleeping fingers, and takes it to her secret safe once she is sure that Amy isn't watching her.

After the badge is safe and secure, Rosa pulls open her closet and tosses a t-shirt to Amy. "Come on. Get out of that, and get some damn sleep. We're all tired."

Amy complies and changes into the pajamas that Rosa has supplied for her. Rosa changes into some more comfortable clothes herself, and is about to flop onto her bed next to Gina, before sitting up.

"Wait," Rosa says, and Amy turns. "We should take turns sleeping. Just in case," Rosa says. "You sleep first."

Amy nods, and heads out of Rosa's room and to her couch. Rosa follows her, sitting down at the kitchen table and pulling out her phone to kill some time. She stares at her pure black lockscreen for a little bit, before drifting off into a mindless sleep.

Rosa isn't exactly a heavy sleeper. But right now, she isn't exactly a light sleeper either, because she's only gotten two hours of sleep before the heist had started, and she's extremely tired. So currently in Rosa's apartment, there isn't a single awake and alert soul.

3:30 AM, October 31, Outside Of Rosa's Apartment, Object of Heist in the Possession of Team Santiago 2k Gay Teen

Captain Holt and Terry tiptoe up the fire escape and pause at Rosa's apartment.

"Sir," Terry says in a hushed whisper, "how are we going to get in?"

Captain Holt pulls a small box out of his jacket. "Jeffords, I have broken into Santiago and Peralta's apartment before, and it was a piece of cake. I have got this."

"But Captain, this is Rosa. Not even the worst of all criminals can get into Rosa's apartment," Terry says nervously, eyeing the dim light pouring out of one of Rosa's apartment windows.

"The best of detectives can, though. Let me tell you something, Jeffords," Captain Holt says, beginning to work on the door. "Every single Family Game Night that we have had here? I have been studying every corner of Diaz's apartment, and I have every square centimeter mapped out. We are going to win this heist," Captain Holt says. Terry stares at him astonishment, and then looks to the door as a small popping noise occurs.

"Damn, Captain!" Terry says in disbelief. Captain Holt shushes him as he quietly creeps into the apartment, with Terry at his heels. They tiptoe past sleeping Rosa. She stirs for a moment, and both Terry and Holt stop in their tracks. Rosa resumes into her deep slumber, and Captain Holt continues.

They walk past Amy, who doesn't move from her unconscious state. Terry has his phone out to snap a few pictures, and Holt doesn't comment as Terry gleefully captures photographs of the two women. Holt leads Terry to a room down the hallway, and quietly opens the door.

"Gina's on the bed," Terry whispers. Captain Holt doesn't answer, and kneels down to lift up the fur rug that is laid down on the floor. Captain Holt pries a loose floorboard up, revealing a safe. He works on it for a few seconds, until it opens, and he lifts up Terry's badge in victory. It's all that Terry can do to not squeal loudly at their clear win. Captain Holt hands Terry the badge, and Terry stuffs it in his jacket pocket.

Holt pulls another small object out of his pocket and sets it down in the safe. "Two can play at that game," he mutters, and Terry bends down to get a closer look at the object. It is a button, but in white with navy blue letters that say HOLT WINS 2018.

"Nice," Terry says appreciatively, and Captain Holt closes the safe. They creep out of the apartment in the same spirit, making sure to close the back door as they leave victoriously.

5:00 AM, October 31, Rosa's Apartment, Object of Heist in the Possession of Team Holt Wins 2018

Rosa wakes up with a start at the table and curses loudly, waking Amy up. Amy's head snaps up and she fumbles for her watch. "It's five o'clock," Rosa tells her. "Damn it, I fell asleep! We have to make sure that Terry's badge is still there," Rosa says, and stands up. Amy wearily follows her into the room where Gina is still asleep. Rosa bends down to open her safe, and curses loudly as soon as she does so.

"What?" Amy asks, walking over. Rosa hands her the button, and Amy's eyes widen. "How dare- I hate- I'm gonna―" Amy stutters, dropping the button. "How did they get in?"

"I don't know," Rosa says gravely. "But how did they crack my safe?"

Amy goes to shake Gina awake. "You can have an autograph later," Gina mumbles sleepily, turning over. Rosa gently pushes Amy away and sits down at Gina's side.

"Gina, wake up. The badge is gone, do you hear me?" Rosa says roughly.

All of a sudden, Gina's eyes flutter open and she dramatically sits up. "Noo! My baby! But we were going to win, Rosie! Who did it? I will have revenge," Gina seethes. Rosa soothingly puts a hand on Gina's shoulder.

"It was Holt. Holt did it," Amy says.

"I knew it! I always knew that son of a bitch had it in for me," Gina scoffs.

"We're heading back to the precinct. Gina, you're with my on my bike," Rosa orders, and the team scrambles to their vehicles.

5:20 AM, October 31, The Bullpen, Object of Heist in Possession of Team Holt Wins 2018

"Okay. Where's Holt," Rosa says loudly, rudely waking up Jake and Charles, who have been asleep at their desks for a while.

"Why you looking for Holt?" Jake slurs sleepily. "Don't you have the― urgh― badge?"

Rosa spots a flash of movement in Captain Holt's office. The blinds are down, and she marches over to the office with Amy and Gina at her heels. Rosa vigorously tries the doorknob, but it is locked. In a fit of anger, Rosa lifts her leg and kicks, effectively breaking the knob off.

Amy watches this unfold in blatant shock. "Oh my god, Rosa, you just―"

Rosa ignored her and pushes her way into the office. She looks around wildly, before spotting a man sitting on the couch. "You," Rosa says menacingly, "what did Holt hire you for?"

"Uh, me? I- who's Holt? The police Captain told me to wait here. I'm filing a report," the man stutters.

Rosa snorts. "Yeah, right. What happened? Someone TP your house?" she says sarcastically.

"There were eggs too," the man mutters quietly, as Captain Holt appears in his office.

"Detective Diaz! May I ask why part of the door to my office is broken?" Holt says loudly. Rosa spins around, and Amy coughs quietly.

Rosa holds up the button that Holt left at her apartment. "May I ask why this was in my personal safe? How the hell did you even break into my safe? I need answers, and I need them now, " Rosa says harshly.

Captain Holt snorts. "Diaz, your apartment is extremely easy to break into. Perhaps not easier than Peralta and Santiago's apartment, but still, easy. Furthermore, you should be more creative with your passwords. Your safe's password is 'Gina.' I was able to guess it on the first attempt," Captain Holt tells her.

At this point, all three women are staring at Holt with their jaws dropped.

"Your password is me? Aw, Rosa, that's so cute," Gina cooes.

"Shut up. I'm changing it," Rosa mutters.

"When did you break into my apartment? And why was it easy?" Amy splutters.

The corner of Captain Holt's mouth turns up. "Not only was it easy, it extremely easy, Amy. Courtesy of the Dad key that Jake gifted to me last Christmas," Captain Holt says, smiling wickedly.

Amy gasps. " No! You misuse the Dad key!"

"There were no rules that came with they key, Santiago-Peralta. I can do whatever that I would like with it," Captain Holt grins. The amount of time that Captain Holt is holding the smile on his face is really starting to become disturbing.

"As soon as this is over, I'm writing you a list of rules!" Amy promises. Captain Holt merely smirks.

"Where's the badge, Captain?" Rosa demands.

"I cannot tell you that," Captain Holt says, walking to his desk. "Dismissed."

Team Santiago 2k Gay Teen grudgingly walks out of Holt's office. The man sitting on Holt's sofa frowns. "What about me?" he asks in confusion.

Holt nearly rolls his eyes at the man. "You too. Get lost, Jim," Holt says.

"My name is John," the man mutters in offense. He stands up and starts to leave Captain Holt's office.

"Close the door behind you," Captain Holt instructs. John does his best to close the broken door. It swings back open.

5:35 AM, October 31, Babylon, Object of Heist in Possession of Team Holt Wins 2018

"Okay, so here's the plan," Amy says. "I know that Jake knows where Holt's keeping the badge, but I don't know where the badge actually is. But Jake's going to get it, and I know where Jake's gonna put it," Amy claims.

"And then we take it from them," Rosa grins.

"I like this plan," Gina murmurs absentmindedly. Her hands are weaving through Rosa's hair, and Amy can't tell it she's braiding Rosa's hair or merely playing with it.

"So when will Jake and Charles go for it?" Rosa asks. Amy shrugs.

"Hold on, let me text him," Amy says, pulling out her phone.

Rosa frowns. "How is that―"

"I'd give it two hours," Amy says. "They're still mastering their plan."

"Did he text you that?" Rosa snorts.

"No. I asked him how he was doing. He replied 'fine.' I'm married to Jake. I can read his even through a five letter text, Rosa," Amy says. Gina smiles approvingly.

7:45 AM, October 31, Outside of Captain Holt's House, Object of Heist in Possession of Team Holt Wins 2018

Charles shivers. "It's getting cold, Jake," he says, wrapping his jacket around himself tighter.

"Okay, Charles, you know what you're gonna do, right?" Jake asks quickly.

"Yeah," Charles says.

"Okay, then. Go now, dude. Don't fail me!" Jake calls as Charles darts around to the side of the house. Jake stuffs his hands in his pockets after he rings the doorbell. He waits for a few minutes until Kevin answers the door.

Kevin has hastily pulled a sweater over his pajamas, and he greets Jake at the door. "Peralta," Kevin says, and nods.

"Kevin! We made a deal last week, right?" Jake says.

"Ah, yes. I do recall you saying that you would join my literature class for four months. You also promised me a boxed set of 1800s French poetry," Kevin says. Jake nods.

"Yes, yes, absolutely. I will do all of that. But you, my man, have to keep up your end of the deal too," Jake says, locking eyes with Kevin. Kevin sighs.

"All right, then, Peralta. As long as this keeps Raymond's work life away from us," he says. Kevin pulls out a shining badge and hands it to Jake.

"Oooh! Shiny!" Jake chirps, running his fingers over the smooth badge that he recognizes to be a decoy that Holt had definitely made.

"I polished it," Kevin says. He moves to close the door, but Jake sticks his foot through the crack. Kevin stares at Jake in confusion, pulling the door back open. "What? Our deal has been made, Jake."

"Uh―" Jake quickly thinks of something to say to stall Kevin. "What kind of polish did you use, Kev?"

"First of all, do not call me that. I used―"

Jake stops listening as soon as he hears a distinct 'meow' that he recognizes as Charles's signal. He pats Kevin on the shoulder and backs out of the doorway. "Good talk! Actually, I've got to now! Charles is probably waiting for me. Thanks again, Kev. Gotta go! Bye!" Jake says, pulling the door close from outside of the house. Charles has returned to the car and is sitting in the passenger's seat. Jake gets out of the car and pulls out the car keys.

"Did you get it?" Jake questions with excitement. Charles holds up the real badge in triumph and squeals.

"We did it, Jake! I put in the fake badge! We won! Team Cool Boys Jake and Charles for the win!"

"Actually, we still have like over twelve hours until the heist is officially over. Just gotta keep this baby safe until then," Jake says, opening the glove compartment of his car. He slides the badge in. "Also, cool team name, but only if we can spell 'boys' with a z instead of an s."

"Yes! Yes, absolutely! That is so cool," Charles says ecstatically.

"Team Cool Boyz Jake and Charles it is!" Jake announces, and the pair heads back to the precinct with the badge in their possession

9:45 AM, October 31, Captain Holt's Office, Object of Heist in Possession of Team Cool Boyz Jake and Charles

Captain Holt turns off the phone in satisfaction. "That was my husband," he informs Terry. "A few months ago, Jake made a deal with Kevin, so that Kevin would help him win the heist. Just as I had anticipated, Jake dropped by today for the badge, which I assure you, is still secure in my home. Kevin gave him a decoy badge I had made months ago. Peralta is a fool, thinking my own husband would double-cross me," Captain Holt says.

"Up high, man," Terry says, lifting up his hand for a high-five. Captain Holt stares at him until Terry awkwardly drops his hand back to his side. "What I mean, sir, is that this heist is ours."

"Yes, it is, Sergeant. Yes it is."

10:30 AM, October 31, The Bullpen, Object of Heist in Possession of Team Cool Boyz Jake and Charles

Amy sidles up to Jake's side. "Hey," she says.

"Is this a trick? Ames, if it's a trick, then I'm not enjoying it. I don't have the badge, okay? And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you," Jake says quickly.

"It's not a trick, Jake," Amy assures him. She leans her head on his shoulder. "It might be Halloween, Jake, but last Sunday was your turn to get the groceries. You forgot." Amy laces her hand with his, tracing her thumb over his palm.

"Damn it! Oh my god, Ames, thank you so much for reminding me. I'll just go and do that right now!" Jake says, kissing Amy on the forehead and bounding towards the elevator. Once he gets down to his car, however, it won't start. Jake notices that the gas tank is empty, and curses loudly. He gets out of the car and locks it, pocketing the keys.

Jake heads back up to the bullpen. "Hey, Ames, I also forgot to fill up my gas tank, so can I take your car?" he asks, keeping a firm fist around his keys.

Amy gives him her car keys and watches as he heads back down to the garage. "Good work, Rosa," she says once Jake is gone. Rosa nods.

"It was easy. He wasn't even suspicious. He thought that not having a full gas tank was because he didn't fill it, not because I drained it," Rosa says. Her clothes smell faintly of gasoline.

"Yeah, maybe you should change so he doesn't actually figure it out. Did Gina get Charles out?" Amy asks.

"Yup." Rosa doesn't give any further details, and Amy doesn't push her for any.

"Great." Amy pulls out her phone. "Judy, come on out. Meet us in the garage."

Two hours earlier

Amy speaks into the phone. "Hello, Doug Judy?"

A familiar voice spills out of the other end. "This ain't Doug Judy. He's on a business trip to Santa Maria. Making big loads of cash and selling pop-hit cds. What you want?"

"It's Amy," Amy says, slightly annoyed at Doug Judy's antics.

"Oh, Amy! I can't believe you didn't invite me to your wedding, mija! I could've totally beatboxed!" Doug Judy exclaims.

"Not the time, Judy. You're a pranks kind of dude, right?" Amy says.

"Of course! Don't insult me, Santiago-Peralta. You know, back in Milan, they call me Steve 'Prankster King' Michaels. Of course, that's because I never reveal my real name. You guys know me as Doug―"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I need your help to play a prank on Jake. How fast can you get here?" Amy says.

10:40 AM, October 31, Garage, Object of Heist in Possession of Jake's Car

"Oh, Rosa! You never told me that Rosa was going to be here! Sweet Rosa Rosa Rosa! Are you single yet?" Doug Judy sings, puckering his lips up at Rosa.

Gina darkly scowls at him. Doug Judy throws his hands up.

"Okay, okay, okay! I get it. Not single. Yet," Judy says, winking at Rosa. Rosa imitates Gina's scowl. "Anyways, what have we got here? You want me to break into his car? Cool. But what do I get in return, oh Amy?" Doug Judy asks.

Rosa causally pull a knife out of her boot, twirling it in her fingers.

"Never mind!" Doug Judy says quickly. "I will do it for free because we are pranking Peralta." He sets to work with his toolkit, working at unlocking Jake's car. "This is the easiest car that I've ever had to break into! How many seconds was that?" he asks after the car is open.

"Eight seconds," Gina calls.

Doug Judy frowns. "Not impressive," he mutters. "I gotta work on that."

Amy pushes him out of the way, clambering into the car. She confusedly pulls out two badges from his glove compartment, and holds them both up to Rosa. "One's definitely a decoy, but which one?" Amy mutters to herself, running her hand over both badges.

"That one," Rosa says, pointing to the more dull one. "Sarge polishes his badge three times a year, and the last time he did it was a couple of months ago. The other badge is way more recently polished."

"Oh, you're so smart, Rosa Diaz, will you marry me?" Doug Judy sings in a high pitched tone. Rosa glares at him, knife still in hand, and he raises an eyebrow and shrugs. "It was worth a shot, my love."

"Hey," Gina says menacingly. "Only I get to call her that."

"Whatever, Linetti. I'm hotter than you are," Doug Judy mutters. Gina gasps.

"Oh, you didn't―"

"Stop!" Amy says sternly. "We have the real badge now, so that's that. Let's go, Team Santiago," Amy says slipping the badge into her purse.

"All right! I'm on team Santiago!" Doug Judy says cheerfully.

"Damn it, Judy, you have to lay low. You can come back for the party at the bar, but right now, you gotta lay low so that Peralta doesn't suspect anything. Also, lock his car," Rosa says firmly.

Judy blows her a kiss. "For you, my lady, anything. No, seriously, anything you want at all. I mean it. Anything, Rosa. Anything for you."

Rosa rolls her eyes with disgust. "Whatever. Let's go, Team Santiago 2k Gay Teen," she says, leading Amy and Gina towards the elevator.

"Bye!" Doug Judy calls, and scurries the other way.

1:00 PM, October 31, Outside of the Precinct, Object of Heist in Possession of Team Santiago 2k Gay Teen

"Doug! Doug Judy!" Jake calls quietly. He is standing in an alleyway at the side of the precinct with Charles. Charles scowls distastefully.

"You invited that moron here? Jake, you know that I don't like him that much! He's a moron!" Charles scowls.

"Chill, Boyle, you haven't even met him before," Jake says.

Charles kicks at a stray pebble. "And that's how you really know that you hate someone. If you hate them even before you've met them. And I hate Doug Judy. That bastard," Charles rants.

"Peralta! Hey, man!" A new voice shouts. Jake and Charles both whip around to see Doug Judy walking towards them. "It's chilly today, ain't it? Can you guess what my costume is, Jake? I'm one of T-Swift's body guards!" Doug Judy exclaims.

Jake's jaw drops open. "Oh my gosh, you look just like the one who kicked me out of that concert! That's awesome, Doug!" Jake says, rushing closer to Doug Judy.

"Didn't know that we were on a first name basis here," Charles mutters, trailing along.

"Did you do what I asked?" Jake says, pulling Doug into a hug. Doug slaps him on the back and Jake jumps.

"Of course I did, man. She got into your car, opened the glove compartment, took one of the badges, and put it into her purse," Doug Judy says.

"Which one did she take?" Jake asks in anticipation. Doug shrugs.

"I think the one that was less shiny."

Jake pumps his fist into the air. "Yes! We did it! Did you hear that, Doug Judy? We did it! We're going to win this hest big time!" Jake jumps into the air, moving his arms and legs around. "Sorry, Amy kinda has that effect on me. Her victory dance is rubbing off on me," Jake says giddily.

"What did you do?" Charles asks eagerly. "I mean, you told me to just trust you, and I do, one hundred percent, but I'm just itching to know what you did," Charles says, sending a mean glare at Doug Judy.

"Well, I dusted up the decoy badge that Kev gave me, and I polished the real badge! And obviously, I know that Rosa knows the Sarge's polishing routine, so she would know that the badge hasn't been polished in a while. So Amy took the dull badge, which is actually the fake badge! I'm a freaking genius!" Jake tells them triumphantly. "Thanks again, Doug."

Doug Judy waves it away. "Oh, anything for my main man," he smiles. "So, tell me, dude, how did Amy even know to call me?"

Jake laughs. "Oh, I started talking about how much I missed you―"

Charles snorts loudly.

"And how we loved to play pranks on each other a few months ago. So you know, she got that all planted in her head during movie night, so then she called you, bro. I planned all of it. It was awesome. I am a genius," Jake declares.

" We love playing pranks on each other, too! Jake! I love playing pranks on you! It's so much fun!" Charles says desperately, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. Jake continues on talking to Doug Judy.

"We forgot our handshake, dude!" Doug Judy says. They complete a series of what looks like a game of patty-cake, fistbumps, high-fives, jazz hands, and top it off with a turkey. "Turrr-key!" Doug Judy says. "Well, Jake, m'boy, I'll see you later. Bye for now!" Doug Judy turns the other way and sprints off.

"Man, I hate that guy," Charles mumbles under his breath as Jake grins.

"What was that? Let's head back to the bullpen, Charles," Jake smiles, tugging Charles by the arm and towards the building.

"Why is Jake in love with him and not me?" Charles says to himself as Jake, blissfully unaware, punches in a button in the elevator.

3:59 PM, October 31, Captain Holt's Office, Object of Heist (Actually) in Possession of Team Cool Boyz Jake and Charles

"I have called my husband. He has indeed confirmed that the badge is still in place, and there have been no problems with it," Captain Holt tells Terry. They are both interrupted by a loud crunching noise, and turn around to see Hitchcock sitting on Holt's couch, snacking on a bag of chips.

"Hitchcock, can you go do that somewhere else?" Terry says in annoyance. Hitchcock continues to ignore the pair. Holt sighs and turns back to Terry.

"Anyways, I trust that my husband is taking care of the badge. We have got this win in the bag, Sergeant," Captain Holt says. Terry nods joyfully.

6:37 PM, October 31, Babylon, Object of Heist in Possession of Team Cool Boyz Jake and Charles

Gina quickly walks through the hallways, barely looking up from her cell phone. She looks up once she has reached the secret entrance to Babylon, and quickly enters the secret bathroom. Tema Santiago 2k Gay Teen has taken turns going down to the secret bathroom and checking to see if the badge is safe and secure, and it is currently Gina's turn.

She quickly opens what looks like a ventilation pipe in the side of the wall at one corner of Babylon. The badge is still there, and Gina allows herself to release the dramatic breath that she had been holding in. Gina hurriedly shuts the pipe and heads out of the bathroom to tell the rest of her team that the badge is safe and sound.

9:07 PM, October 31, The Garage, Object of Heist in Possession of Team Cool Boyz Jake and Charles

Jake quickly gets into his car. "Thanks for bringing gas, Charles," he says.

"No problem, Jake! Anything for you!" Charles chirps as Jake starts his car.

"Quick, check to see if the badge is still there," Jake says, and Charles opens the glove compartment. He pulls out the badge and examines it in the dim light.

"Hmmm, it looks a little bit less shinier than before," Charles says suspiciously. "I didn't waste all that time polishing Sarge's badge for my efforts to go to waste, did I?"

"Aah, Amy must've gotten something on it when she took both of the badges out," Jake asserts. "Let's just get to your place and―" Jake's phone buzzes, and he parks at the shoulder of the road to open up the text he has just received. Charles leans over to see.

"What does it say?"

Jake begins to read it out loud. "It's from Captain Holt. It says, 'Attention, squad, we will meet at Shaw's at midnight to declare the winner of this heist. Be there on time. Sincerely, Raymond Holt.' That's weird. It sounds like he thinks he's going to win," Jake remarks. "But he's wrong. Because Team Cool Boys Jake and Charles is gonna win."

Charles squints his eyes. "We better be cautious, though, just in case. Holt might be planning something, you know. That guy is pretty sneaky."

"We'll be fine," Jake says uncertaintly.

9:10 PM, October 31, Outside of the Precinct, Object of Heist in Possession of Team Cool Boyz Jake and Charles.

"I have just sent the rest of the squad a text instructing them to meet at Shaws at midnight," Captain Holt says. "And Peralta, as usual, has replied with a string of emojis that are difficult to even look at."

"Maybe you shouldn't have finally gotten emojis on your phone," Terry shrugs. They stand outside of the precinct in the dark, watching costumed people walk up and down the streets. A teenaged boy sits on the curb and takes a swig from a bottle of vodka. Captain Holt sighs.

"Well, Jeffords, duty calls. Young man, you are underaged and therefore should not be consuming alcohol of any type!"

9:30 PM, October 31, The Rooftop, Object of Heist in Possession of Team Cool Boyz Jake and Charles

Rosa, Amy, and Gina stand together on the rooftop, gazing out to the busy street below them. Gina glances up from her phone. "Well, that's weird. Have any of you looked at your texts recently?" she asks.

Rosa and Amy both shake their head no. Rosa leans closer to Gina to catch a glimpse of what's so 'weird' on her phone. Gina lifts up the phone to show both of the detectives the screen.

"I got this text a while ago; didn't bother to actually open it up until now, but Holt wants everyone to come to Shaw's at midnight. As if he's going to win the heist," Gina says.

"As if," Rosa snorts.

"Team Santiago 2k Gay Teen is obviously going to win," Amy quips. "We'll just bring the badge to Shaw's at midnight and show everyone that we won," she shrugs. Rosa squints at Gina's phone screen and scrolls down a little bit.

"Jake replied; 'yeah right like you're gonna win it's obvious that team cool boyz jake and charles are gonna win not u' like he thinks that they're going to win," Rosa says.

"Their team name is l-ame ," Gina mutters.

"So lame," Amy agrees.

"We did leave the fake badge in Jake's car. Maybe they think that they have the real one or something," Rosa suggests.

"Maybe. We should go check on the badge, though," Amy says. "Rosa, it's your turn."

11:30 PM, October 31, Outside of Captain Holt's House, Object of Heist in Possession of Team Cool Boyz Jake and Charles

"That was really great of Kev― I mean, your husband to help us out with the heist," Terry says. Captain Holt pockets the badge with a satisfied look on his face.

"I have been waiting to win this heist for three years," he says, and the pair head to Terry's car. "We still do have about half an hour before midnight, though. Sergeant Jeffords, please drive slowly, as Shaw's is merely twenty minutes away from my home and we must announce ourselves at exactly midnight," Captain Holt instructs.

Terry looks a little befuddled but shrugs. "I'll do my best," he sighs. "Slow driving is not fun for Terry."

11:43 PM, October 31, Shaw's Bar, Object of Heist in Possession of Team Cool Boyz Jake and Charles

Amy, Rosa, and Gina enter the bar nearly fifteen minutes before midnight. They sit down at an empty table and make no attempts to order anything on account of Amy's rules. Rosa sighs. "Why are we here early, again?" she groans.

"Because we have to be here to announce our victory," Amy says for the fifth time. "If we're here before time, then no one will expect it."

"Um, everyone's going to expect you being here early," Gina says. "You're Amy freaking Santiago-Peralta. Always exactly right on time or early." Gina lifts her hand to flag down a waiter, and Amy slaps it down.

"We're staying sober until we've announced our win, remember?"

Gina rolls her eyes. "Calm down. I'm ordering a water. If I'm not hydrated by the end of each day, then I break out," Gina shudders. She picks her phone up from the table for the ninth time in a single minute, scrolling through something anxiously and then dropping the phone back down. Two seconds later, she picks it back up, and scrolls through again.

The eleventh time, Amy snatches Gina's phone away. "That is messing with my head. Stop doing it," she says, putting Gina's phone in the middle of the table.

"Hey!" Gina complains, but doesn't move to grab the phone again. Rosa leans over and rests her head on Gina's shoulder, stifling a yawn.

"I've been up since like forever. When will this all be over so that I can get some sleep?" Rosa murmurs, eyes half-closed. "I've literally been through like five different outfits today, and I wanna go home."

"After we win, and everyone says that we're the best human slash geniuses in the world," Amy promises. "Then we can all go home and pass out."

"Good," Gina says, reaching for her phone again. "And Rosa, you're not going home without me."

11:58 PM, October 31, Shaw's Bar, Object of Heist in Possession of Team Cool Boyz Jake and Charles

Captain Holt and Terry come into Shaw's. "Be subtle. Santiago's team is already here. We don't want them to see us, because we want to make a big announcement about the fact that we have won the heist," Captain Holt says.

"There aren't that many people here," Terry frowns.

"Great! I am able to announce my victory loudly then," Captain Holt says. "There are two minutes until midnight. No doubt Boyle and Peralta will arrive at exactly midnight to announce their false victory," Captain Holt snickers. He looks over to where Amy's team is sitting. "Look at them! They have already accepted their defeat!" Captain Holt says, referring to the fact that all three women are not fully awake.

"Yeah, they do look pretty bummed," Terry says. "We've got this."

12:00 AM, November 1, Shaw's Bar, Object of Heist in Possession of Team Cool Boyz Jake and Charles

Many things happen at once. A loud alarm goes off at Amy's table, waking the three women. Rosa immediately tosses the badge to Amy, who clambers up on the table and holds it up triumphantly."We won! We won!" she says lously, spotting Captain Holt.

Captain Holt has pulled out their badge, holding it up and staring at Amy in confusion. "No, that can't be correct. Terry and I have won!" he protests.

Taylor Swift's voice bursts out loudly near the entrance of the bar. The door is thrown open and Jake parades in wearing an oversized suit with aviator glasses. Charles trails behind him, carrying a set of speakers. Jake jumps up into the air.

"I know all of you have been waiting for us, and I know that you all know that you have lost…" Jake says loudly.  He quickly thrusts the real badge up into the air. "Guess what, losers! I am the most amazing human slash genius that there is! Take that, wife! Take that, Captain! Boyle and I win!" he laughs.

Charles looks up at Amy and Captain Holt, both confused and holding up their own badges. "Haha!" he laughs. "We got you guys so good. Team Cool Boyz Jake and Charles forever!"

Terry grabs at the badge that Captain Holt is holding in terror. He turns it over in his large hands, and then sighs in defeat. "This ain't mine, Captain. They're right. This isn't my badge. I know my badge like I know the palm of my own hand," Terry says.

Captain Holt gapes. "How can that be? We kept the badge safe! We followed a plan!"

Terry walks over to Amy, and snatches the badge out of her hands. He runs his fingers over it and shakes his head. "This isn't mine either," he says. Rosa looks angry, and she scowls. Amy gets off of the table.

"Jake, you―" she starts angrily.

"Won! I won, thank you so much, my dear wife. I love you too," Jake says. "Now say it with me, everyone, Jake Peralta and Charles Boyle are the best―"

Terry has walked over and yanked the badge out of Jake's hands to confirm if the win is really Jake and Charles's. He puts it in his palm skeptically, and frowns. "This is not my badge, either! What the hell did you all do with my badge?!" he says angrily, much to everyone's astonishment.

Jake's jaw drops open. "What do you mean? That's your badge. Charles and I won the heist, and that's your badge. You're probably not thinking right. That's definitely your badge, Sarge," he babbles. "Are you drunk?"

"I know what I said, Jake!" Terry thunders. "That's not my badge!"

"How can that be? Where's the real badge, then?" Amy questions.

"You all better find my badge, or else I will make sure that all of you will never ever enjoy another day at work in your entire lives," Terry threatens. "Man, this might be worse than my favorite mango yogurt getting cancelled!"

Suddenly, winning the Halloween heist doesn't seem very important to anyone.

"Sarge, we'll find your badge," Amy promises. "We just have to retrace all of our steps. I'm sure it'll turn up. I mean, how far could it have gone?" she reasons.

"Damn it, you better be right, Santiago," Terry says menacingly. Amy seems to cower a little bit, until they are all interrupted by the sound of an acoustic guitar filling up the bar.

Jake frowns. "Those are some groovy tunes, but where are they coming from?" he wonders.

12:06 AM, November 1, Shaw's Bar, Object of Heist Lost

Mlep(clay)nos enters the bar, guitar slung over one shoulder. He nods his head towards the squad. "Good evening," he says rather stiffly, strumming out a tune.

"Mlepnos?" Jake asks. Mlep(clay)nos keeps a poker face on as he turns to face Jake.

"No. I do not know of whom you speak of," Mlep(clay)nos says quietly. "That is not my name."

Amy stumbles to Jake's side. "Oh, I know you! You're Mlepnos! You played music at Jake and my wedding!" she exclaims.

"No. That was not me," Mlep(clay)nos says again. "My name is not Muh-lep-nose," he sounds out. Mlep(clay)nos  changes up the chords on his guitar and concentrates on the tune that he is currently playing. The entire squad watched Mlep(clay)nos play until the music is interrupted rudely by the sound of someone beatboxing along to the guitar music.

Jake's eyes widen. "Doug Judy! What are you doing here?" he asks. "You told me that you had to back to Greenland! Oh my god, did you lie to me? How could you?" Jake says overdramatically.

"I'm here for your celebration, of course! I helped you win, my dude!" Doug Judy says, clapping Jake on the back. Jake slightly winces, before sighing.

"He didn't win," Terry says, before Jake can say anything.

Doug Judy's brow furrows. "Then who did?"

Terry's shoulders slump. "No one did. The badge is missing," he says. Doug Judy's eyes seem to brighten a little bit. He chuckles loudly, much to everyone's surprise.

12:10 AM, November 1, Shaw's Bar, Object of Heist Very Close to Being Found

"SIKE!" Doug Judy rumbles. Amy squints her eyes skeptically at him, and Captain Holt frowns immensely. Jake looks at him in more confusion.

"What do you mean?" Gina says, glaring at Doug Judy. "Also, stop using modern slang. It only looks good when I do it."

"I mean, sike, as in I win," Doug Judy says, grinning from ear to ear.

"No you don't," Charles says, standing up with newfound courage. "You would need to have the real badge to win. Also, you're a loser and no one likes you," he adds stiffly at the end.

"And I have the real badge, little dude," Doug Judy laughs, ruffling Charles's hair. Charles yanks himself away in contempt. Doug Judy pulls out a police badge from inside of his coat, lifting it up for all to see. "See? I win," Doug Judy says triumphantly, drinking in all of the expressions of disbelief on everyone's face. Terry pushes his way to Doug Judy and snatches the badge out of his hand.

"Well, Sarge?" Jake asks.

Terry frowns. "It's mine," he mutters. "This badge is mine. But how did you come to acquire it!"

Doug Judy shrugs. "It was so easy, like, Amy thinks I'm working for her, and Jake thinks that I'm working for him, but like, I'm working for myself ! L-M-A-O, losers! I am Doug Judy, and I'm gonna rule the world with my hot future girlfriend Rosa!" Doug Judy exclaims joyfully. Rosa scowls darkly.

Jake slaps himself across the cheek. "I am so stupid," he groans. Nearby, Amy lift her palm to her forehead.

"I am an idiot!" she mutters. Doug Judy looks from Jake to Amy.

"Nice. Now I can see why you two are married You're both so alike!" Doug Judy says, causing everyone to stare at him in disbelief. "Hey, say, Diaz! You wanna get married? We could be grossly cute like these two dorks!" Doug Judy says, nearly dropping onto one knee.

"Go to hell, Judy," Rosa mutters. "I don't do cute."

"Except with me," Gina purrs, tucking an arm around Rosa's waist. Rosa seems to melt into Gina's grip before coughing and standing up straight.

"Well, I know that you guys have a traditional saying whenever someone wins your heists! Now, let me hear you all say it: Doug Judy is the best―" Doug Judy starts, looking pointedly at the Nine-Nine.

The entire squad scowls, but complies, muttering under their breaths. "Doug Judy is the best human slash genius," they whisper. It is barely possible to hear them.

Doug Judy puts one hand up to his ear. "I can't hear you! You especially, Diaz! Speak up, and let's try again," he says, smiling wickedly.

"Doug Judy is the best human slash genius," the squad says, a little bit louder this time.

"Still not hearing you, Diaz!"

"Doug Judy is the best human slash genius!" Rosa yells at him, immensely annoyed.

Judy throws back his head and laughs. "Love you too, Diaz! Anyways, let's party! Drinks are not on me!"

12:42 AM, November 1, Shaw's Bar, Winner of Heist Declared as Doug Judy, (SURPRISE! i'm sorry i have the worst plot twists. you could see that coming from a mile away), Badge is Now Safely In Terry's Possession

Half an hour later, everyone from the Nine-Nine is very drunk. Doug Judy and Jake stand in one corner, singing karaoke and dancing. Rosa and Gina are aggressively making out in one corner, and Amy is stumbling towards Jake. It looks as if Amy is on her fifth-drink, because she seems confident as hell and is about to rock the karaoke stage. Captain Holt watches them, cheering as Amy lifts a mic and opens her mouth to sing.

Terry claps ecstatically along to Mlep(clay)nos's continuing guitar music. "Happy Halloween!" he says loudly, downing a shot.

"Actually, it's November 1st now," the bartender interrupts. "Halloween is over."

Drunk! Terry stares at him. "Shut up, Shaw!"

"That's actually not my n―"

"Happy Halloween!" the Nine-Nine shouts.

[crqstalite]

SHADOW OF THE SITH, Ch. 12

TRI’AMA._ZIOST.

Today was already shaping up to be a bad day, Tri'ama knew that before she even left her private quarters for the forseeable future. And with her oh-so optimistic look on things, that just made this entire excursion more bleak than it really needed to be. Ziost had never been particularily off-limits for her before, but she'd received plenty of transmissions in the past days of travel advisories to the 'Gateway of the Empire'. Had Lana not been a close acquaintance of hers, she would've sent Jaesa or Scorvs off to deal with the situation and heeded the warnings to stay far away from the planet. But the way the blonde Sith had seemed so panicked over the situation, so much more different than her typical and calm disposition, Tri'ama couldn't help but feel obligated to help the new Minister of Sith Intelligence with the mission (also maybe not send her apprentice out to her premature death either; Scorvs could get himself killed for all she cared).

Given, there was also a multitude of other things that she could be getting up to, like properly being on leave for the first time in years, but left idle and without any work to busy her, her mind would continue drifting elsewhere. Or awkwardly try to reinsert herself into the Amarillis family, and with the current climate of the estate, it was best she stay out of the issues entirely. Returning to her old apartment, which she still hadn't cleaned out post-divorce, was a no-go emotion-wise. Staying on the Fury would only remind her more of Theron, leaving her yet again idle and more likely to do something stupid. Getting caught up in yet another conspiracy, apparently, was the best choice out of all the options.

"Going in without backup? This still has to be one of her worse ideas." Tri'ama considers a lot of things to say to the Captain before she hears a sarcastic quip from the Black Ops soldier over the holo, and blocks out Quinn's next response before she can't, turning the corner from her room and remaining quiet as she leans against a door frame, pushing her hood up and around her head while intending to watch the rest of the conversation. Prim and proper as always, standing at a perpetual attention at the holocommunicator in the commons of the Fury, Malavai Quinn had unfortunately returned to her service at the firm request of Raegia (the woman wouldn't budge on her argument) so here he was, apparently fighting an losing unnecessary battle for her safety once again, "Even so, it's blasted Ziost! Alongside already being undesirable to someone such as a Sith Lord herself, it's been overrun by this new issue that's arisen. Every incoming ship has been either directed to its orbital station or deterred entirely. No one quite knows what is going on either, risking her safety is not part of my servitude, lest I remind you for the last time, Lieutenant. Married or otherwise, she is still my charge and I personally believe we're risking quite a lot for this Dark Lord, and our lives is not something I am willing to part with. Talk her out of this insanity, wouldn't you?"

Clearly bored with the entire exchange, Pierce's eyes flicker from the man to her with a smirk on his expression as she nods to him to continue, before quickly returning to his original attention, "I say that's somethin' you take up with her, Quinn, I ain't got any control over what she chooses to do. I've got just about as much pull as you do. I do suggest treadin' real lightly in your next few conversations with her though, Cap'n." And with that, Pierce sarcastically bows. He then very smartly disconnects from the terminal with a wink thrown in her direction, and Quinn runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated with the now dark holocommunicator as he focuses on a spot on the ground. A sigh of annoyance, maybe anger as he lifts his head again to shut off the static of the disconnected terminal. He whispers something under his breath, and picking himself up again, he swivels to see her standing only a few feet away. He jumps, but regains his composure rather quickly as he straightens his uniform top while she approaches. There's a new pin on his uniform that she takes notice of, and she supposes either Darth Amarillis or Darth Aghdani had promoted him at some point or another. She wouldn't put it past either of them, Raegia couldn't even be bothered to meet with him before shoving him back onto the Fury.

"My lord, I'm assuming you're ready to depart to the surface?" He asks, as she raises an eyebrow. She tries not to roll her eyes, reminding herself she has yet to slide the goggles on and her expressions do matter. To people she actually cares about, but she holds her metaphorical tongue anyways, "I must warn you, the reports from the planet's defense system have not improved since Lord Beniko hailed us. I still recommend reacquiring both Jaesa and Pierce for this mission to avoid any unnecessary injury." Quinn reminds her like a broken holorecorder.

"To yourself, you mean?" She asks, glad she has she her respirator on to remind her not to say anything too horrible underneath her breath, "Jaesa, Pierce and Vette are all people. I gave them leave because they've been aboard the Fury for years and deserve the break. I can deal with Ziost and its troubles on my own, I only require your assistance until I can find a competent medic to replace you so Darth Amarillis doesn't ground me and the rest of my crew on Dromound Kaas for the forseeable future."

He's taken aback, clearly, as his expression changes but he covers it up very quickly and rather skillfully if he was surprised by her admittance to the real reason he was still in her service, "If that's how it must be, my lord. I'm sure you're entirely capable of what you intend to accomplish, I meant no offense." An odd glint off his cerulean  eyes bring her back to a simpler time, when he grovelled at her feet like little more than an akk dog hoping for scraps. Yet again, he'd be by her side as she faced down inevitable death. Tri'ama had felt just a tad too bad about pulling her other four crewmembers from leave early (though what Jaesa and Broonmark got up to without her supervising their activities was a mystery and a half; Pierce and Vette on the other hand were with the Amarillis' to keep them from hunting her down), but the time was well-earned. Raegia, once hearing that she would be leaving again without her crew in tow, had requested a reassignment of Quinn back to her service. The premise of the request was motherly, but the forcing to take him or have the Fury grounded until she found another medic was daunting. Finding one wasn't difficult, one she trusted with her body was another story. One that she could acquire on such short notice was even worse, so she was forced to reboard the Fury with the Captain in tow. At least this time, he kept his distance, "I'm sure Minister Beniko is waiting on us, shall I set course?"

She nods offhandedly, and he disappears off back towards the cockpit. Course set as the ship lurches softly in lightspeed, she leans most of her weight against the holocommunicator. He returns back from the small room as the ship stabilizes, and he then flicks it back on as she moves to sit further away in the lounge seats. He's plotting, as she can begin to recognize the map of the Landing Zone, and as he flickers away from that, the heart of New Adasta. Plotting for what, she isn't sure. but she has noticed the change to bulkier armor instead of only his officer's uniform. What adversaries they'd face on the surface had yet to be seen, but it does comfort her  a bit that Quinn can become a battle medic if required.

Lana would surely let her go when this all died down in the next few days, but she'd equipped heavier armor like Quinn anyways simply due to necessity. And fear. Mostly necessity with all the unknowns so far, but also fear of losing her life to a stray blaster shot. Or whatever the hell was down there.

Or Quinn.

She's beginning to consider this may have been another one of Raegia's plays to get her married off again, forcing her to keep her ex-husband around in the hope they'd 'fix their issues' and Tri'ama would 'get back into the right mindset'. It didn't matter that Tri'ama was still facing the demons that he'd brought back upon the Fury, only that Raegia and Yusaits wanted a legacy that would outlive them. No matter the cost. Righting Kadasha off all the military men she'd become infatuated with somehow had been a small win until Pierce had arrived, then the obsession (that the Lieutenant still didn't know about; Kadasha overtaken by the girlish crush and had yet to say anything) had been reignited, getting Typarnk settle down had been unsucessful and Scorvs...Raegia and Yusaits had surely seen the man as a lost cause after this long. After thirty one years, it was fair for her to assume her eldest brother would become little more than a hermit in the Sanctum until he died from unnatural causes.

But now, Quinn knew the rules, he knew what she would tolerate and what would get him thrown out the airlock. He kept his gaze averted from her when it was evident she no longer needed his input on anything, though it lingered just a tad too long to be a look of acknowledgement or respect. There was no need to make a mountain out of a selosian tunnel though, so she sighs and pulls out her own holocom, effectively ignoring any further interaction he may have wanted from her. Even taking her eyes off of him for just a moment makes a cold shiver run down her back as he moves away from her, surely packing up his own things on the opposite end of the ship. It still terrifies her to have him as the only one to defend her if things went inevitably wrong. She'd much rather have a blasted Jedi protecting her rather than him at this point. Most weapons she knew about were in the armory, but she wouldn't put it past him not to have a handblaster or holdout blaster on him somewhere. She wasn't that daft to assume he'd ever be unarmed, and she knew Captain Quinn like the back of her own hand.

The nightmares of being shot in the back had returned in full force when she'd seen him again, bag in hand at the foot of the ramp leading into the Fury. Having blood gush out of her with a vibroblade stabbed through her gut, all with those cold, calculating blue eyes on her the entire time while doing the deed. Baras may have been dead and gone, forgotten quickly by those of the top Sith, and Quinn may have promised to never attempt such a thing again, but her trust would never be regained that easily. And chances are, he would never have it again. Why Vette couldn't be her primary healer was beyond her, the small Twi'lek was rather good at finding injuries and treating them to the best of her abilities. Even Pierce had managed some field healing that had been rather sufficient. Broonmark had never truly been able to, and due to the many unknowns of Jaesa's powers, Tri'ama found it better to simply let her be good at what she was good at.

But apparently, Raegia could not be bothered to find one herself. She didn't trust Pierce as he was apparently little more than a military lackey with rocks for brains nor Vette due her being little more than a prized and glorified slave who didn't know any better (Raegia's words, not her's). But because she was her legal guardian and 'doting mother' she had the right to ground her on Dromound Kaas. So here they were, walking down from the Fury together, Quinn a few paces behind her as she tries to grasp the situation. Evidently, this was horribly unideal, and she was more than glad that she'd acquired all the armor plating that she had for this mission specifically. One could never be too careful, especially around traitors.

Thanks, mother, She thinks sarcastically as they pass by a transparisteel viewport, and she glances at their reflections passing in the reflective surface, Thanks for nothing.

Most of the mission was like running around in circles, she found as she went over the mission report for the third time that morning. None of it seemed like it should be even sort of possible, with people running around as somewhat possessed. It had yet to be updated by anyone from Intelligence, and attempting to get a call in to Lana as they walked through the spaceport, she found it continued routing her to little more than just static instead of the Minister herself. The last communication she'd received from the woman had been hours ago, and were coordinates to somewhere arbitrary on the surface. After that, there was virtually nothing for her to go off of. Hadn't been the first time she'd ever flown into an operation blind (and probably would be far from the last), but she often tried to keep the list to a minimum.

Tri'ama had admittedly only been to the planet once before, and that was assisting Sith Intelligence hunting down an SIS infiltrator. Really, she was only overseeing and paying for the operation without the support of the rest of the Council. Still, she never knew whether they found the Cathar or otherwise, the rogue agent was a cunning strategist apparently and had managed avoiding being found out for whole years on end. She was going in blind to this entire operation, and while not unusual, it wasn't a situation she wanted to be playing fate with either.

She almost runs into Quinn's back before she looks up from her holocom, sliding it back into its designated holder on her belt. Frustrated because of the hold up at first, she quickly realizes that Ziost's situation is much more dire than even she'd first assumed after looking out over the orbital station, people of all races being attended to by medical workers. There was clearly not enough personnel, the few that weren't as injured attempting to help alongside them. Holocoms were beeping incessantly, the arrival board was glitching every few moments with ominous lighting. There were ships scheduled to be coming in every few minutes, but every few glitches appeared for them to be cancelled before being righted again. What was going on was anyone's guess, but anyone that was trapped down there...chances were that they wouldn't be returning before Vitiate took ahold of them, turning them into his vicious puppets.

Her heart picks up the pace at the thought.

What was keeping Vitiate from taking her? Or possibly less worse, taking Quinn? Why were some unaffected, and others driven to their wit's end?

What was he after, all these months after the events of Yavin IV? The Hero of Tython maybe, for weakening him so severely? In that case, wouldn't Lana and the rest of Sith Intelligence be searching for him instead of wandering aimlessly on-planet? It couldn't have been Lana herself (as rude as it sounded, she doubted Vitiate would be after little more than a Lord, tied to Arkous or otherwise), and it shouldn't have been her. Other than defeating Revan and attempting to keep him dormant for many more years, they hadn't be directly responsible for anything he'd suffered in the past months. And she was his Wrath, as far as she was still concerned. Killing her would surely be a break of some protocol, and the Empire and Vitiate himself would suffer from the loss of their precious Wrath.

She hoped.

"Oi! 'Less you're here to help, I suggest gettin' lost." A scruffy black and white Cathar male says in a deep and thick Ziosti accent, buff arms crossed across his chest with loose pieces of armor over the undersuit that matches his fur tone,  "Last transports came in a few hours ago. Results were less than stellar, as you can see." He answers, gesturing to those lying about on the ground and groans the sound from them. Tri'ama tries not flinch as she catches a glimpse of someone -- no a corpse on a stretcher, their face pale and body unmoving as other assistants cover them, "Hate to see that happen to you, girlie."

Ziost wasn't just a battle against an unknown force. It was an entire massacre of the Ziosti people. As much as she didn't feel bad for them, she still was curious if people were taking advantage of the chaos and maiming others to survive, or if this was the product of Vitiate's reign over the planet. The people who had to fight their family members and their loved ones to even have a chance at evacuation, those who'd been possessed themselves. She quivers at the thought of having someone in her head. Someone controlling her thoughts, her every action.

"Do you know who you're talking to?" Quinn asks before Tri'ama can even open her mouth, and she groans inwardly at the overly defensive tone in his voice. The Cathar man chuckles darkly, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope. And don't care much either, I'm gettin' paid to treat folks and keep people off the station 'till all this dies down, not to deal with little Imperial pricks." He answers, his white canines evident over his smirk. He looks shocked for a moment after he catches a glimpse of her, a hand over his mouth, "Oh no, what are you going to do to me Lieutenant? Arrest me? Like to see you try, I don't live under Imperial jurisdiction as of now." He responds with a laugh, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Quinn is speechless at the nonsensical taunt, still trying to formulate a response, an eye twitching at the mis-read assignment, "I suggest you show the Wrath of the Empire some respect." He answers after a moment, not bothering to correct him.

The Cathar's green eyes move from him to her, analyzing her up and down before scoffing, "Right. And I'm the Hero of Tython. I ain't risking any of these pilots to go back down to that hellscape. Barely made it off myself, and as much as I'm considering sending you right back out that airlock without your fancy ship, I'm still morally obligated to make you stay far away from this planet."

Rolling her eyes, Tri'ama pushes past Quinn to stand directly in front of the man, sizing him up herself. He doesn't budge in the change of position, so spying a Nautolon with a bottle of water a few feet behind, she shatters their glass with a quick explosion of the Force, a shriek erupting from the patient and medical worker, water splashing to the ground. He whips his head around to witness, the back of clothes entirely soaked before growling, "Hey! We needed that!"

"And I need to get down the surface. I suggest you don't continue to deny me that." Tri'ama answers, a look of disbelief on the Cathar's face, "There are other, much pricier things I'd suggest you wouldn't want to lose should you do so, yes?"

His argumentative state is diminishing, and she knows that she's won now. He throws down his hands to his side in defeat, a sigh escaping him, "Fine, you win Sith. Head down to the surface all you want, but I ain't sending any of our pilots with you. Too much of a risk to the system."

"Perfectly fine. I can pilot the transport down myself." Tri'ama answers. As if that'd keep her from going anywhere, he was dead wrong. Still, she picks up another matter that passes through her consciousness as she eyes one of the smaller transport ships aboard the orbital station out of the corner of her eye, "A certain Sith Lord Beniko, has she passed through this station as of late?"

"Lord Beniko?" The Cathar considers for a moment, still wary of her but willing to comply as he genuinely thinks on the matter, "Blonde woman, travelling with a Twi'lek that was way too upbeat for where she was going and a human woman I think was with Intelligence?"

The others, she couldn't vouch for, but the description matched the Minister's. She'd have to do some other digging on the Twi'lek, though she figured Lana wouldn't have gone without someone else from her new division. The backup was evidently necessary for any excursion to the planet, so she nods, "Yes. I'm assuming that means she passed through onto the surface a few hours ago?"

"She did, yes. A couple hours after that, actually about an hour before you another force user passed through, 'long with another Twi'lek. Also blonde under some white hood like your's." The Cathar shakes his head as he recollects the meeting, "Dunno why ya'll want to go down there instead of stay up here, but apparently I ain't in the right for questioning it.Well, that's all I can tell you about anyone of note in here, Wrath. Have fun down there, hope I see you again." His tone clearly makes it sound like he could not care less if she and Quinn actually returned or not, and she can kind of understand with the state of medical procedures occurring around them. Not that she does excuse his behavior towards her, but she digresses. There are more important matters to attend to. This ill-mannered Cathar happened not to be one of them.

Tri'ama doesn't bother bidding him a farewell as they walk away from him, boarding the shuttle. She allows Quinn to work his magic at the controls as she takes her dutiful place next to him, scanning the skyline at the off-white planet on the horizon. His vision flickers to her every few moments, eyes full of apprehension, before finally focusing on the task at hand.

Surely he wonders how things would've been, had Baras not been a deciding factor. Flexing her hand, she's sure her finger would still be heavy with a ring. She'd have learned to fly by now, at least.

She steels her eyes forward. To reminisce was one thing, to lust after something one no longer needed or wanted, was another.

-

The first thing that Tri'ama notices about the plagued planet once they touch down is just how quiet it is on Ziost when she opens the doors out into the landscape. With how the reports painted things, she thought she'd at least hear offhanded screams and shouts of violence and whatnot, but not even a blaster shot paints the sky as the pair departs the transport vessel. Holding out a hand to stop Quinn and make him wait before he continues on into the hellscape, she pulls her holocom from her belt and rereads over the coordinates Lana had sent her for what feels like the the thousandth time today. Not far away, but it's eerily empty around where they've landed. It makes her uneasy. No one is milling about, and somehow that scarier than running into someone out here. She doesn't immediately want to leave the faux safety of the ship, fearing someone is simply hiding in the shadows.

Trudging her way through the snow with Quinn's light footsteps behind her toward the bunker, Tri'ama feels her signature buzzing with force energy, bouncing off of her and everything around her. She's hypersensitive to everything, feeling where cloth meets skin, even the microscopic prickles of cold against her exposed face. As if the force is living about her, making her more aware, more powerful. The wind picks up at this thought, throwing her hood off her head entirely and her hair whipping around in a whirlwind of it's own. Ziost is in it's winter cycle, Life Day is rapidly approaching, as the expensive decorations in the heart of Kaas City reminded it's citizens annually. Her heart clenches, these people are supposed to be celebrating with family, not running for their lives from their family. Poor or not, they were still Imperial citizens, and she had a duty to them.

Poor timing, but she remembers just then that she has taken the holiday for granted and hasn't acquired anyone anything just yet. The situation is a dark reminder for her to hold what she has dear, lest she and her crew, her family become victims of this mass murder. Whether the Emperor will become dissatisfied here and become bored of Ziost, has to be seen. She's worried he may jump to other planets, to start the entire thing over again somewhere else, more populated. More important to her, that is.

Pushing her gold tinted goggles up and off her eyes onto her forehead, she peers inside the bunker's open blast doors, both lightsabers lit with a crimson red. A dark light above her sparks, and if her anxiety couldn't jump any further, it did in that moment as she took in her surroundings. Someone else was here, or had been here recently. Feeling out in the Force, she can feel whispers of something familiar -- but it isn't as sharp as she remembers Lana's being. Softer...but more mysterious. That of someone who didn't want to be found, or known. Another lingers behind it, one she had definitely felt before. Sharp, regretful. But also angry, frightened. Not force-sensitive, yet one who made themselves known.

The question was, who was it? It couldn't have been Nox, she had some sort of Life Day party planned for later today in the City, and Aghdani wouldn't have set foot here. She remembers the mention of the two others who'd be travelling with Lana, but then she would've felt her here as well. The mention of the other Force user who'd touched down shortly before Tri'ama and Quinn had arrived reminds her to be leery. The Cathar hadn't mentioned whether they were Sith or Jedi. Not to mention the possibility they may have been mind controlled. A further look, the bunker is completely ransacked. The light isn't the only fixture that has suffered, including racks that looked like they had been used as training dummies. Crates with the with the Imperial insignia have toppled over, some broken open in a corner. How the Empire would recover, if the Empire recovered, it would take a lot of money. What supplies had been lost, what manufacturers and other important people had been lost in the siege, would never be recovered. At least not in the way they had been before everything had happened. The economy here, at the very least, would be disrupted for months, if not years. Chances are people were thinking about relocating to Dromound Kaas. If not there, then somewhere else under Imperial jurisdiction. The rulings would take months, the Fleet would see so many in limbo, so many waiting to be placed somewhere else.

If they made it off, that was.

Quietly stalking her way to the stairs, she follows it up slowly. Thoughts of murdererous force users, dark and light, soldiers or worse, civillians fill her mind as she reaches the landing, before she pauses entirely. A voice, two voices as the other responds to a question. Her eyes widen at the tone, clenching her teeth together. One sounded feminine, the other a gritty masculine voice. They quiet down as she gets closer to the top, and if she's correct, one of them has drawn a long-range weapon from the sound of the strap hitting their hand and the cocking of it in rapid succession.

She prepares herself for whatever she may find, tightening her grip on her hilts. Tri'ama and Quinn share a look, and he nods in understanding.

A shot from the weapon just as she gets a look at the messy overlook and she spirals out of the way, Quinn audibly drawing his blaster and ducking. It just narrowly misses her head, and she sends her lightsaber back towards wherever it had originated from. It hits an arc, slicing the wall behind the dark holoterminal without making contact with it's intended target. Tri'ama just barely gets a glance at the pale yellow Twi'lek with the rifle (who'd dodged the saber expertly, still firing off shots at Quinn, who returned them with his own well-placed shots) before rushing forward, targeting the person she could feel in the Force nearby with her single saber, attempting a Force leap as the other returns to her left hand and slashing at the presence. They couldn't be seen, but the signature was so familiar it was nearly painful when she focuses on it. Even so, they throw her backwards with a well-placed Force push and she skids backward on her haunches. Raising her head, she's confused for a moment. It isn't immediately obvious where they are at first, though slowly, golden tinted light reveals their form, a green doublesaber being lit at their side and blonde hair hanging in a ponytail at the base of their neck.

Their face is exposed though, and true to the Cathar's words, they were in mostly white. Something she'd tune to the Jedi with, though decked out with battle mods and plating. Squinting gently as she yanks herself back up off the ground and pulls her saber hilts back to her hands with the Force, she pauses before leaping again toward them. Tri'ama recognizes that face, and they grey eyes that reminded her of storms. The silver orbs glint with familiarity as well, and her eyes widen her stance relaxing and saber lowering, "Wrath? What in the blazes are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Barsen'thor." She deadpans, getting to her feet and disgniting her saber. The Twi'lek lowers his rifle, and Quinn's shots stop as well as he quickly returns to her side. He keeps his weapon drawn, as expected, "All other moral questions aside, how did you manage to get onto Imperial soil? We don't exactly hand out boarding passes like candy."

"I managed to receive clearance in my own way, to no concern of yours. I'm here to rescue Theron." The Barsen'thor responds after a moment of consideration, doing the same to her own doublesaber and hanging it back on her belt. Tri'ama tries to keep a straight face, but shock runs through her system. First at the thought of Theron being back on the same planet that she was, closer than she thought. Then one of panic, Theron was on Ziost for some reason, and someone had sent the Jedi's warden after him to bring him back to the Republic. What reasons did he have to be here in the first place, and why now? Why did he require a Jedi's rescue, if not one from his precious SIS?

"I heard that the Republic was here. Sixth Line, if my intel remains correct correct." Tri'ama muses, keeping her voice steady. Theron would of course get involved in some of the Jedi's business, his mother probably at the helm. As 'her agent' she's sure there's some responsibility he has there, "I can't imagine why. Your faction always did have the oddest responses to situations, I assume this would be no different."

"Because the Empire has such a grasp on the situation at hand, Wrath. I'm sure you weren't even aware there were Jedi here until now." Naji snaps back, setting her lips in a grimaced line.

"And I'm sure you weren't even aware your darling Jedi Order was causing trouble until now either, we're you? They've done little more than add to the issue." Tri'ama says, raising an eyebrow as she crosses her arms, "But I assume you didn't know that, did you?"

Naji recoils at the veiled insult, turning to her companion. She opens her mouth to say something else when they hear a blast door on the opposite side of the room slide open. Her heart rate rises again, drawing her sabers rapidly and rushing to stand at the edge of the overlook. Naji hesitates, but follows after her quickly, also drawing the hilt of her doublesaber. The Twi'lek holds back, curious but not afraid.

"I had foreseen your arrival, but I didn't believe it." A chilling voice says loudly, and a dimly glowing soldier clad in red and black steps out of the shadows. Tri'ama hears His voice through the man, the voice that has haunted her for no less than years. Naji's face is contorted into one of confusion, surprise maybe. Has she also heard His voice before? Is it as unfamiliar to her as it is to her companion, or to Quinn?

Has she faced Him before?

"I thought, after bearing witness to my rebirth on the Yavin moon, why? Why would you stand in the face of certain death?" Another arrives, this time in the form of a woman in Black Ops soldier armor. Her heart drops, it's nearly identical to Pierce's set. Had she not put him on leave, would he also be here? Serving his faction to his very last breath?

Tri'ama decides she doesn't want to think about that. Doesn't want to think about how easy it would be to lose everyone if she didn't do what she'd done, "You both are far from stupid. The Wrath and Barsen'thor, I know that much. Overly ambitious, perhaps. Well, regardless, I do hope you find your time on Ziost enlightening." Naji gasps, a gloved hand over her mouth as her eyes widen.

"Master Garault...no...how could they have done this to him?" Naji whisper asks, her grip tightening on her hilt. Perhaps an acquaintance of hers, yet Tri'ama can't find it in her to feel any sort of bad about it. Everyone knew the cost of war, everyone knew that no one was guranteed a life sentence. Though, had a member of the Council been in Garault's place, she could feel an inkling of emotion there. Her companion gently touches her shoulder in solidarity before he draws his rifle again.

"You'll bear witness to a world's end if you survive long enough." The Jedi answers darkly, the three people below also drawing their weapons. Green lights her vision, Naji taking a battle stance. The Jedi has a gold saber, and soon they're being shot at as Tri'ama leaps off the overlook, the force radiating off of her.

It isn't a long fight, as Tri'ama expects it to be should these really be the Emperor's pawns. She thought they would've been as strong as how they'd been when they'd been possessed initially, but both of the soldiers fall quite easily to her sabers, any former training falling away with the loss of self-control. The Master is being pelted with debris and blaster shots from above as she duels with the pair of Imperial soldiers. She doesn't feel particularily bad about it, but shoving a saber through the Imperial insignia still feels weird. It simply feels wrong. The light leaves their eyes, but so does the light red on their bodies. Their eyes are no longer pure white, instead returning to their typical colors as they loll back into their heads, blood pooling out from their wounds. Kicking the bodies with the toe of her combat boots, they remain motionless, the color returned to them properly. Death seemed to be the only escape from the Emperor's control.

Zenith, as she learns (or rather remembers, his name had been escaping her since they'd arrived) later takes the killing shot while Garault is distracted with Naji and Tri'ama's saber fighting. He topples over in a heap when it happens, both women jumping out of the way in surprise, and hitting the ground with his back as Tri'ama just barely moves out of the way. Had she not been in immediate danger, she would've had some very choice words for the Barsen'thor's sharpshooter and his choice of timing. Hopefully her sharp glance back towards the Twi'lek gets her point across sufficiently.

Right in the middle of his forehead is the entrance and exit wound, a gory sight. The same happens with this corpse, the crimson color leaving his body and his eyes returning to normal. He whispers something that Tri'ama can't make out, heaving out his words, before he takes his final breath. Naji bends down, hesitating for a moment before lowering his eyelids over his lifeless eyes. As Naji does whatever she intends to do with the dead man, Tri'ama finds that her once white robes have already had parts of it dyed an ominous red. Blood has already seeped onto them, and she pushes Quinn away, wordlessly letting him know that she hasn't actually been injured badly, that she isn't wounded enough to warrant healing. That it isn't her blood. Zenith arrives from his perch shortly after, helping the Barsen'thor stand from her kneeling position. They speak quietly for a moment, though Tri'ama isn't privy to the details of their conversation.

The clacking of more boots on the duracrete behind them at the main entrance sends Tri'ama back onto high alert, taking a protective stance over those in her charge. At the very least, these soldiers have helmets on. It keeps her conscience from reminding her that these are people, that they have stories and families and things to return to. Things they'd never see again. They begin shooting at them, and she does her best to deflect and fire back at them before someone else leaps onto the scene, a crimson lightsaber cutting through them in a flurry. One sniper can also be seen, clad in black and finishing the last soldier that had been part of their party.

When the last of them fall, Tri'ama once again disignites her sabers. Naji stands next to her, supposedly done with whatever respects she was paying. Lana Beniko had finally arrived.

"So you've arrived. Good. There's much to be done." Lana says, barely breathing hard from her last altercation. She didn't look too different from the last time that Tri'ama had seen her, though the bags under her eyes pointed her to believing her sleep had suffered since Ziost broke out. The woman behind her seems to have fared the same, simply sliding her own rifle, Imperial-issues of course, back onto her back and brushing a loose hair back into her blonde bun without another thought. A quick glance over the uniform reveals she's Imperial Intelligence, which clears up who was brought down with her. Still, it doesn't answer who the Twi'lek was, but her tone says she wouldn't appreciate questions right then, so Tri'ama buries the question for another time.

"It's good to see you again, Minister, but the Jedi are on Ziost, an Imperial homeworld no less. Odd, isn't it?." Tri'ama responds. Naji's force presence smothers her with apprehensiveness and mild annoyance as she says this, which is frustrating in itself. Another planet worth of this oddity invading her senses, overloading her conscience, she was going to die before the Emperor even got his hands around her mind.

"Yes. You don't belong here, Jedi. You shouldn't have come." Lana turns her attention to Naji, her tone hardening as Zenith crosses his arms at the accusation.

"I'm not about to start backing down from the Emperor now. And from the look of things since I touched down, I'm starting to think you could use the help." Naji responds in a tone she hadn't heard from the Consular before, "Jedi or otherwise, I don't think you're in any place to complain, Minister."

Lana isn't taken aback, or hides it very well, "Well, you're not wrong about that. As you can see, things are already out of hand." She answers, shrugging almost nonchalantly before turning back to Tri'ama, "The Jedi you fought belonged to the Sixth Line. SIS commandos who follow their own addendum to the Jedi Code, hence the name."

"'There is no contemplation, there is only duty.'" Naji says, almost breathlessly if she knew it by heart. Another time, she would have to ask what made the Sixth Line so different from the Jedi they typically met (and in her case, fought), and why so much was at stake if the Republic lost them.

"Right. Great point of view--so long as they're working for you." Another agent. Not a Twi'lek, but how many had Lana brought down with her?, "Pardon the interruption. I sent a probe droid to look into that crashed shuttle, Minister Beniko. It's empty."

Lana gives him a nod of acknowledgement at the information, "Agent Rane Kovach and Cipher Nine of Sith Intelligence. Agent Kovach has been somewhat of a rising star in Sith Intelligence here on Ziost."

"We do know Theron Shan was on that shuttle. And we know he's responsible for the Sixth Line being on Ziost in the first place." Cipher Nine says, a crisp Imperial accent accompanying the information. To be expected, of course, but again her heart jumps at the mention of his name. So he was here, but with a botched Line of Jedi who'd been unknowingly mind controlled. Tri'ama prays that he's still okay, unharmed for the time being. If not, she's not sure she wants to see him in his current state, or what she would do if she found his corpse. Cipher Nine shakes her head, perhaps in annoyance, "So far, this 'Theron' fellow has only added to our troubles. I do hope he's not here to cause more."

"Theron's here to stop the Emperor, same as me." Naji speaks up again, "Sadly, I doubt that he's just your problem anymore."

"Vitiate is not our Emperor. Not anymore." Lana responds, and Tri'ama shares the sentiment, "As you've witnessed, Vitiate is taking hold of an increasing number of soldiers and Sith. His goal continues to be the accumulation of power, Agent?"

"The dark side is strong on Ziost. Using the outpost's resources, our former Emperor can massacre the defenseless to fuel him." He sounds just as tired as his companions, if not moreso. She can imagine why, she would be too if she were working under Lana for this entire operation, already more than a week old by Intelligence standards, "The more powerful he becomes, the more people he can control. He will keep on killing until nothing is left."

A pause, as Lana receives a message a moment later, the information sinking in, "Yes, I'm on my way." An audibly frustrated sigh as she returns her attentions to the people at hand, "I'm needed everywhere, all at once. I've already lingered too long. Agent Kovach and Nine have a plan to stem the bloodshed."

The Cipher agent finishes her own listening, turning her head to Lana, "They found the shuttle, Minister. Destroyed, no body inside. It may be safe to say she's become one of them and wandered off. I told you the Emperor would target you first, I believe it's time to give up the search."

Lana's expression drops entirely now, anxiety taking over her features as she doesn't even attempt to hide or stem her real emotions anymore, "I will do no such thing. I know she's out there, she wouldn't just die like that, Nine." Both hands form a fist at her sides before she takes another breath, and bids them all a hurried if not also stressed goodbye, a finger still pressed to her ear a muttering under her breath into it. Whoever 'she' was must've been extremely important to Lana.

Kovach and Nine turn back to them, Kovach beginning, "It's an honor, my lord, for us both. Here's what we have in mind. The outpost armory is wide open right now. It's where the possessed have been getting their firepower."

"It needs to be placed on lockdown, is what the agent means." Nine finishes, a bored look on her face.

"That won't be enough to stop him, Agent." Tri'ama responds, flabbergasted at the lackluster idea. The Emperor wouldn't be stopped by some petty lockdown system, hell he had the whole planet underneath his thumb already, "You're trying to stop the flood of an ocean with only a river dam. You need to think bigger."

"It won't stop him, you're right. But we have to start somewhere." Kovach says, lowering his voice and softening his tone at the mild scolding, "Cipher Nine will stay with you to escort you there. I'll go out ahead, I'll be your eyes and ears."

Kovach leaves them with the new agent, and she draws her rifle once he's gone. She's devoid of emotion, and Naji and Tri'ama share a look, one of confusion. Her presence is empty, as if they're being sucked into a void of nothingness when she prodded at her mind, "It's an ugly hellscape out there, my lord. If you're looking for fight, you've found one. You're just in time for a showdown right in the middle of the end of a world."

"Lead the way then, Cipher." Tri'ama says, Quinn muttering under his breath before the small party steps back out into the cold. The smell of blood stings her nose from her robes and the bodies before them, even the respirator not doing enough to filter it entirely. Now staring out over the small landing zone, she can see the apocalyptic ending that everyone else did. Ships flying out, people milling about that are't even really...people. She was really facing death head on by the side of a Barsen'thor, her sniper, a Cipher agent and her ex-husband.

The galaxy always had it out of her. If it was waiting for her to snap in two and fall apart, it had another thing coming.

[wildcardwriting]

Absolute Confusion #3

[One Piece]

Chapter #2 | Chapter #4

Absolute Confusion on AO3

Summary: It was hard enough understanding what drove Monkey.D. Luffy the first time, but the second time-now that’s absolute confusion. A slightly smarter Luffy has time traveled, let the confusion begin…

Please Read: Old fanfiction. Probably terrible.

XXxxxxXX

Chapter 03: The Taven

XXxxxxXX

"Haki…?" Shanks said looking at Luffy again.

The captain of the red-haired pirates still wasn't sure what to make of that revelation, and his thoughts concentrated solely on who could possibly be a carrier of such a rare power—

"Shanks…are you asleep with your eyes open?" Luffy asked leaning closer to Shanks and poking the older man in the cheek. He waited patiently for an answer. He knew Shanks wouldn't do that, not while there was beer present, but he had to ask because the sheer amount of time Shanks had not blinked was something an ordinary person would find difficult to do.

This new quieter Shanks was strange. Even when Luffy had met his friend after he had become King of the Pirates, he'd never seen his friend act like this. Maybe something was wrong, but what?

'Did something go wrong on their last adventure?' Luffy thought looking at Shanks.

"Hey, Cap'n," Ben said stepping forward to help Luffy.

Shanks blinked and turned around barely aware that he hadn't been paying attention. Ben pointed down and Shanks was immediately set his sights on a quiet Luffy looking thoughtful and worried.

"Are you thinking deep thoughts?" Luffy asked a serious tone coloring his voice, his posture different from usual.

Shanks shook his head, displacing the slightly tense atmosphere that had taken root. "Now, what's this about you being the King of the Pirates? Last time, I came you were still talking about being a pirate on my crew…what changed your mind anchor?

Luffy smiled his toothy grin. "You did. You kept saying I couldn't be pirate. So I'm going to prove you wrong, and find One Piece!"

Determination colored his words, and his conviction strong, as everyone in the Tavern was silenced. The leader of the Red-Haired Pirate was pleased, if not a little confused, as he tried to figure out what exactly he might have said to get such a strong reaction from Luffy.

"Shanks…you're better off giving up, what makes sense to Luffy means nothing to us." Ben offered, making his thoughts known to his friend as to how fruitless his quest to understand Luffy was. It wasn't the first time, the first mate had seen someone try and decipher the anchor, and it probably wouldn't be the last, but the fact of the matter was Luffy just didn't make sense.

Shanks shrugged, not really surprised. "I tried."

"Luffy, would you like more food?" Makino asked breaking into the conversation and handing the time traveler a plate full of food. "There's some leftover meat." She offered, and instantly Luffy dug into the food placed right in front of him without saying anything. In between bites, he thanked Makino for the food.

Makino smiled. "I knew that would happen. Well, at least I don't have to worry about any food going to waste while you're around, right Luffy?"

Luffy nodded; inhaling everything on the plate in a single bit, barely taking notice at his mouth stretching….of course just because he didn't notice didn't mean a certain captain and his crew didn't...

The silence from before had come back in force, and for a few seconds, the infamous crew of the Red-Haired Pirates was struck silent by the incredible sight in front of them. Luffy mouth was stretching, and finally, the mysterious whereabouts of the Devil Fruit were becoming clear. Shanksgaped a cross between anger, and concern, as he jumped up from his seat knowing full well where the missing devil fruit had gone. 

The bar exploded in yells as everyone else finally caught to what Shanks was thinking.

"He couldn't have!" They yelled sitting up, letting several plates of food fall to the ground (Luffy glared at them for that. He could just imagine Sanji kicking them if they had done something like that in his presence).

"He apparently did!" Shanks yelled back, picking Luffy up from his seat and pushing him next to Lucky Roux. Luffy didn't struggle, and simply let himself be carried, as he tried to figure out was his friend was making such a big deal over.

So what if he gained his powers back? It was just something normal. He reached across the table and snatched some food from Lucky Roux's plate as well as the other plates at the table.

"Luffy did you eat this fruit?" Lucky asked quickly sketching a picture of the Devil Fruit for Luffy and showing the smaller pirate.

Luffy nodded. "Yes, I did." He said before returning to his food, uninterested to the various reactions from his favorite pirates.

Shanks, on the other hand, was freaking out and didn't see Luffy's nod but he did facepalm hearing Luffy's word of "Yes, I did", and immediately moved forward and placing Luffy on his lap and trying to figure how exactly he was going to explain to the small anchor what eating a Devil Fruit meant.

Luffy was thankfully done with his meal and glanced up at Shanks.

"Because of that cursed fruit, you wouldn't ever be able to swim for the rest of your life, if you fall into the sea you'll drown." Shanks' said waiting for the streams of tears to come, and he wasn't the only one – many of the members within Shanks crew looked ready to bolt at the first sign of tears – Ben himself sighed thinking how incredibly blunt, and tactless his captain was when it came to Luffy.

Seconds passed... and Luffy said nothing, nodding. He looked around, and to the immense surprise of the Red-Haired crew simply patted Shanks on the head before turning away. "I knew that already, Shanks...I've got to go now, my brother's waiting for me!" He said waving bye, and running out before anyone could say a word.

Shanks blinked and looked at Ben trying and failing to find words to describe how...strange it was that Luffy did not freaky about finding out the consequences of gaining the powers from the Devil Fruit.

Heck, just last week the little anchor had been working hard trying to learn to swim and yet today, he didn't make a fuss when he learned he'd never swim.

It was odd.

Ben scratched his head. "Hell if I know...Luffy's something else."

XXXXXX

Market Place, Windmill Island

Finding Ace was far harder than Luffy had first anticipated as thirty-minutes into his search for his older brother. He checked in all of Ace's usual hiding spots including the Library, and the Market Square, as well as the little cliff near the forest yet he still couldn't find his brother. He had asked around and was surprised to learn that his brother had been in the town since yesterday-something that didn't make any sense to the Straw Hat Captain.

'Ace had said he had some errands to run...so then why...?' Luffy thought before something occurred to him. He hadn't check home yet.

Knowing his big brother, he probably had fallen asleep doing cleaning or something, and just wasn't aware he had left yet.

Luffy smiled knowing how true that was when he considered Ace's last two attempts to go grocery shopping. Luffy ran quickly, excited again to see his brother, even though he had seen him only a few hours ago. He sped up happily, and raced out of the town, heading to their house at the other end of the island. For as long as he could remember, he (and later Ace) had lived in that house at the edge of the island, and although he had never known, or asked why when he was younger. He knew why now.

Both he and Ace weren't supposed to be alive; Ace was still being hunted by the Marines, while he was a secret. Neither of them meant to live, but the fact they did mean their options for an honest living was non-existent...

He shook his head, letting the thoughts fall away.

In the distance, he could make out the outline of his house, and as he neared his home, he noticed the door open.

Someone was home.

XXXXXX

Southeastern Edge of Windmill Island, Forest

Meanwhile, Ace looked up to the sky as he sat in a tree branch high off the ground. He was about ten feet from the entrance of the Windmill Forest, and although it had been almost two hours since he had sat down, he still didn't feel like returning to town, or even going home. He'd fallen asleep once climbing up, and had fallen off hitting his head, waking up, but nothing, not even sleep seemed to distract him.

He glanced back in the direction of the village wondering what sort of mischief Luffy was getting up to. Knowing his little brother he was probably still off bothering Shanks' and his crew, asking excitedly for stories about their adventures. It was the sort of thing he imagined Luffy would do, and later when they sat down to dinner he was more than likely going to hear about from his younger brother.

He smiled faintly.

His brother was always full of joy (excluding the time when Garp showed up) and although Luffy didn't quite understand everything that went on around him, he was sensitive in a way other people weren't. Ace could faintly remember when he had first met his brother, he had ignored the other so fiercely and hated him so much that he set out to completely make the younger boy cry. Yet instead, he found himself Luffy's friend, and eventually his older brother after the accident.

Ace's eyes darken thinking about it.

It had been his fault what happened, and yet Luffy was the one to suffer –

CRACK.

Ace bolted up from his seat silently hiding behind some of the huge piles of leaves on his branch as he noticed a large imposing shadow pass near his spot. Down on the forest floor, a pair of scruffy men were arguing in loud voices, causing nearby birds to fly away. Even from his spot high above them, Ace could distantly smell the vile smell of alcohol from the two.

It was two drunken idiots that had stumbled into the forest, and Ace sighed moving out from his hiding spot. If he didn't do something soon, those two were going to end up as food. This forest was no place for the stupid, or weak. Ace moved silently, knowing that even if he did make noise, the two below him were too intoxicated to notice.

He crept closer about to make himself know when some of the words become clear.

"...stupid brat..." One of the men said taking a drink from his bottle. "He...fucking thought he could stop us."

The other man nodded. "...but we showed him...he was a pathetic bastard..."

Ace stopped in his tracks. Listening intently; hoping beyond hope that no one he knew had gotten hurt. He leaned against the tree, hiding in its shadow. If those idiots did anything to Luffy or Makino –

"..Mouthy brat kept saying it was his home... it's his own fucking fault for living out there in the middle of nowhere in a house full of grog..." The first said again.

Ace's blood ran cold.

There was only one house that contained alcohol, aside from Makino's Tavern. None of the other shops carried beer, and often when he was cleaning or when Garp came home there was always beer, stacked high on shelves all over the kitchen.

Red hot fury coursed through Ace. These assholes had crossed the line, they could get lost in the forest for all he cared. Ace moved away from the tree and stepped out into the light.

'Hold on Luffy.' He thought. 'I'm coming.'

XXXXX

East Edge of Windmill, Luffy's House

Feet turned into inches, and Luffy stepped into his house, and into the disaster zone. Along all the shelves, bottles of alcohol and beer were taken down and scattered everywhere, unlike the sight of clutter he knew to be in the kitchen every single alcoholic beverage was empty or missing. Luffy moved through the kitchen, confused. Did his grandpa make a surprise visit or something?

It was hard to tell –

There was noise coming from other rooms, and Luffy walked faster. It sounded nothing like Ace, or like his grumpy grandpa, it sounds like the Tavern when it was full of drunk people. Luffy neared the doorway of the kitchen and glanced around the corner. There before him were no less than ten men all causing a racket, and destroying his home. Chairs and sofas were a scatter and torn mess and all the books were thrown to the floor in a warp representation of a child's messy room.

Luffy's eyes narrowed as he took in the sight.

It was the mountain bandits from earlier!

Luffy gripped the wall that led into the Living Room and moved back keeping his arms gripping the wall tightly. Even at this point, his powers were shaky, and it wasn't like he'd be able to do anything too complicated. His arms were stretched as far as he could go in the hallway, and he waited for the precise moment that all the man were gathered together.

He knew once he attacked he'd be at a disadvantage, so he needed to knock as many of the men out as possible. He watched as the men were walking around in a drunken stupor, watching and waiting for the perfect moment. They were talking about nonsense things, that those other members of the group obviously understood, but that to Luffy seemed incomprehensible.

‘Now!’ Luffy thought throwing himself forward with the acceleration from sling shooting himself.

He slammed into the drunken bandits causing almost every single bandit to slam into the walls, many of whom were knocked unconscious by the impact. Unfortunately, several bandits got off with a few bruises or just having the wind knocked out of them. Six of them stood ready, while the leader looked on, more interested in his beer, rather than the state of his men.

Luffy got to his feet slowly, his limbs still throbbing slightly from the stress of using his new powers. The bandits surrounded Luffy, fists raised. He was still tired from using his Haki earlier, and his devil fruit powers were difficult to use. He needed to defeat them, but how?

They crowded around him, moved closer, fists raised. The man on his left was faster, nearly hitting Luffy as he slid under his fist, and kicked him hard. He didn't get up.

Five more to go…

Another two men on either side of him were drunk out of their minds, crashing into each other as Luffy moved out of their line of sight. Neither moved from the ground, as giant bruises formed on top of their heads.

Three left...

"You little bastard!" One of them yelled from behind Luffy.

Luffy slid, stretching out a foot, tripping the man, making him crash into a nearby wall and knocking himself out. Luffy looked around; the last of the bandits unsheathing their swords. Their stance was sloppy and held none of the grace or form that Zoro's had. Luckily, for Luffy, both were still feeling the effects of the beer, or it would be much harder to take them down with his new powers--

SLAM!

Every window in the house was thrown open as powerful gusts of wind beat against the house. Luffy shielded his face while latching on to a piece of furniture as the bandits were tossed around from wall to wall. The fallen forms of the knocked out man were shot of the house through the open door, cleaning the house of their filth, as the wind died down, just as suddenly as it came.

Luffy lowered his hands, his suspicions raised.

The only man who had the power to control the wind shouldn’t have been anywhere near Fuusha Island–

"LUFFY!" A frantic voice yelled interrupting his thoughts.

The door behind him slammed open once more and there in the doorway was his brother. He looked winded and was panting slightly. His clothes were ruffed, and covered in dirt – no doubt from falling asleep in mid-run – and yet, the look of pure worry on his older brother's face surprised the Straw Hat Captain.

He had only seen Ace with that expression twice.

XXXXX

Twenty Minutes Ago, the Tavern

About a mile away at the docks, a similar situation was repeating itself...

At half past ten, and the crew of the famous 'Red-Hair' Shanks was still partying away. Tray after tray of food was passed around; most of being eaten while some remained on their plates. Alcoholic drinks were long gone, forcing the crew to turn to more tame versions of ginger ale, and soda, moods unaffected by the absence of their favorite drink.

"Makino! Mayor!" A villager yelled coming into the Taven, the door hit the wall. "The bandits – they were sighted near Luffy's house! One of the neighbors saw Luffy enter a couple of minutes ago – I heard loud shouting, and racket coming from it!"

Silence, and then as one the pirate crew stood.

XXXXX

East Edge of Windmill, Luffy's House

Off in the distance, the lights in the D. House were flickering, the door was wide open, and there was a mess everywhere.

Shanks stepped inside and prepared for the worse. Thankfully, nothing of what he was thinking of was happening as his eyes met that of a ruined Living Room, with two small boys sitting on a worn couch. Ace was wrapping bandages around Luffy's arms, where various scratches, cuts and dark bruises littered them. There was still a few bandits were lying in discarded piles around the room, and broken bottles and glass covered the floor but all in all Luffy’s house was still in one piece.

"Remove the bandits," Shanks said quietly, his voiced layered with an angry undertone, that not even Luffy couldn’t miss.

Silently, the pirate crew entered, throwing, and kicking the bandits out, piling them together, as they were tied up. Ben remained with his captain watching the D. brothers, while the others dragged off the mountain bandits.

Ace didn't look up once, and replaced the medical supplies, before he walked away presumably to clean up, leaving Luffy alone with the two men.

"Shanks!" Luffy said running toward him, smiling. Yet, even though he smiles all Shanks could see was the injuries.

"No," Shanks said interrupting him, stepping closer to his little friend to pick up one of Luffy's arms to expect the damage infected. "Did they do this?" He asked his voice like steel, cutting and without mercy.

Luffy yanked back his hand, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "Nope." He told him smiling brightly. "I was just using learning to use my gum-gum powers." 

Shanks blinked. "WHAT?"

XXXXX

Glancing in, Monkey D. Dragon smiled faintly, his face going blank once more as he moved on...

"He's like you, Catalina."[1]

XXXX

Author’s Note: From the vault of old fanfictions.... it's terrible. I know.

1: I had plans for this name. She’s not an original character, but I will be changing her backstory to make more sense.

Chapter #2 | Chapter #4

Absolute Confusion on AO3

[ilyseok]

More than just a diary

Fandom: BTS Pairings: Rap Monster | Kim NamjoonxReader Genres: Fluff, college AU Rating: PG Words: 3877

Summary: Springtime at the university was your favorite time of the year, and the giant library in the middle of campus your favorite hangout. Thanks to the busy students studying during midterms, you were forced to vacate your usual spot and end up in the company of a mysterious purple haired boy - a writer, much like yourself.

AO3 Link

A/N: It took me long enough to write, but finally I’ve finished it. I’ll work on the Jimin x Reader fic after this. And now for your healthy dose of fluff before I start posting the heavy angst

Springtime.

Just thinking of the word brought a smile to your face. Though the beginning of spring was always cold and snowy, it was time for the transition into clear skies, sunny days, and the blossoming of the trees that lined the sidewalks all through the campus. Spring had finally made its way to the university, and you couldn’t be any happier. You loved taking long walks from one end of the campus to the other, just to walk through the forest of blooming pink magnolia trees – especially at night to see the stars light up the sky behind the bell tower of the university’s administration building. Spring was finally in full bloom, and that meant one thing above all: midterms.

An unfortunate part of being a university student – the most beautiful days were still filled with the dread of exams and research papers. Luckily for you, all of the classes you signed up for that semester were general education requirements and typically made for easy A’s. Your midterms were looking pretty lax compared to the rest of your fellow third year students, but still you visited the library on a regular basis as always.

As you rounded the corner toward your usual spot, winded from climbing six flights of stairs, you noticed a group of two or three students gathered at the table, probably discussing a plan for a forced group project due soon. You decided to just look around the floor a bit for another place to sit, but every table on the floor was either full of chatty college kids or a person with their belongings sprawled over the entire table. You debated going back to the dorm to work on your notecards, but just before you were about to give up, you found an open spot in the corner behind the historical document collection. There was only one person sitting there - a twenty something year old boy sitting at the table, a notebook in front of him and a copy of Fahrenheit 451 in his hand.

You set your heavy backpack down on the table with a thunk and peered at the boy from the corner of your eyes. He seemed to not notice your presence as he never once looked up from the book he was so engaged in. His white, thick-rimmed glasses nicely framed the shape of his face and complimented the color of his pastel purple hair, which he wore combed to the side. When you took a closer look at him, you noticed the pair of earbuds mostly concealed by the black zip-up hoodie he wore. The reason he hadn’t noticed you was probably because his earbuds were so loud – typical of most students who flocked to the library to study for midterms.

You waved a hand in front of him to catch his attention, and he pulled one earbud out and looked up at you.

“Is it okay if I sit here?” You motioned toward the chair on the opposite end of the table as you asked him.

“Yeah, go for it.” He automatically put the earbud back in and resumed being oblivious to the world outside of the book and the music. You could faintly hear some of the beats and words of the music, but mostly it was only the clicking of the hi-hat roll in the backtrack that you could hear. Nothing you recognized stood out.

Three hours and five thousand note cards later, you decided to look over to the tall boy with the music out of curiosity. He still sat at the other end of the table, apparently finished with his book since he was writing in a black leather journal. It was similar to the journal of your own that you kept on hand at all times. Seeing his journal reminded you of an idea you had earlier in the day, while you were in the middle of a chemistry lecture. Before you could forget the feeling of the idea itself, you dug your journal out of your bag and opened it to the next fresh page to start an outline for a new story, immediately forgetting about the English notecards you’d spent all afternoon studying. Thankfully the caffeine in your hot drink assisted your ability to remember the idea, which was surprising since the urge to write it came to you more than fifteen hours ago.

Pausing to give your poor hand a break, you looked at the time 11:37PM. The library was open late for midterms for the next two weeks, but still you jumped out of your seat and grabbed everything in your hands and bolted for the elevator. Unfortunately for the both of you, you and the mysterious boy were thinking along the same lines of wanting to leave. You collided when you rounded the corner of one of the bookshelves and dropped everything, as did he.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologized, quickly gathering your journal and messy stack of notecards and stuffing them in the front pocket of your bag. “I just remembered the last bus is about to arrive.”

“No worries. I understand,” he said with a sweet smile and a gentle look in his eyes. You found yourself unable to look away from him as you handed his book back to him. Your eyes traveled from to his purple hair and blue eyes, to the dimples framing his charming smile, and then to the sharp edge of his jawline. Suddenly realizing how long you’d been awkwardly staring at him, you smiled awkwardly and ran off to the bus stop to catch the last campus carousel to your dormitory.

Finally, after a long day of studying, the rest of the night was yours to spend however you wanted. Of course this meant opening your favorite writing network chat on kakaotalk to tell your friends about your new fic idea.

Y/N: I hate how every idea comes to me at the most inconvenient times! >:[

Cap’n Kookie: Me, every day

Y/N: Luckily I remembered it when I was going through my English flashcards at the library earlier

Cap’n Kookie: So what you’re saying is you went to the library to study and wrote a novel instead?

Y/N: ...maybe.

Cap’n Kookie: atta girl

Able Seawoman Yoonji: kids these days smh... I bet you’re one of those shippers my mother warned me about, too -_-

Y/N: Give me a sec and I’ll type it up for you

You pulled the journal out of the front pocket of your purple and black messenger bag and opened it to the last used page, excited to properly outline the idea for your friends. Before you went any further you noticed the strange handwriting scribbled on the page. So as to make sure you’re not going insane, you checked the interior of the cover of the spiral bound book for the customized galaxy print you’d decorated the inside with. You’d spent at least six hours working on that interior, and you specifically remember that it was not designed to be ripped out, so there was only one possibility remaining: this was not your journal.

Panic spread through your mind like wildfire. Did you accidentally switch with the mysterious boy from the library? What if he read it?

Y/N: Mayday MAYDAY

Cap’n Kookie: Requesting the status of the situation, first mate Y/N?

Y/N: BAD

Able Seawoman Yoonji: ???

Y/N: VERY BAD

You described the boy you’d met at the library to the chat and waited for Yoonji and Kookie’s advice.

Cap’n Kookie: What exactly is in the journal?

Y/N: I can’t just look at someone’s journal! I would hate it if he did that to mine.

Cap’n Kookie: Fair.

Able Seawoman Yoonji: This is your best chance to find out if the cutie from the library is a psychopath or not

Y/N: I do like people who aren’t psychopaths…

You opened the journal to another page in spite of your inner voice telling you not to invade another’s privacy. The writing on the page was small and messy, but still legible. You skimmed through the page.

I know every life’s a movie We got different starts and stories We got different nights and mornings Our scenarios ain’t just boring

Either this man was a poet or a lyricist. You weren’t sure which, so you skimmed the page some more.

Hey you, who’s looking over the Han River If we bump into each other while passing, would it be fate? Or maybe we bumped into each other in our past life Maybe we bumped into each other countless times

Cap’n Kookie: So? What does it say

Y/N: It looks like lyrics? Maybe a poem? idk

Able Seawoman Yoonji: Like angsty teenage boy lyrics or what?

Y/N: No. They’re sad but also really deep.

Able Seawoman Yoonji: show us, Y/N-sshi ~

Y/N: No way! It’s already bad enough that I invaded his privacy. I can’t show you guys too.

Able Seawoman Yoonji: He doesn’t have to know anyone saw anything ;)

Cap'n Kookie: You’re a bad influence and I hope you know that

After reading the short passage of the journal, you resolved to get it back to the boy as quickly as possible. Unfortunately that would have to wait until the next day, so hopefully you would be able to find him in the library again. You felt a swirl of both relief and dread at the thought of getting your journal back due to the possibility that he might have read it by the next time you saw him. But if you were lucky enough to see him, there was always the positive of getting to see that gorgeous face again, even if he read your journal and judged you harshly.

\\

The next day you went to the library around the same time to catch him, and sure enough he was there reading a new book today. After seeing his purple hair and the dimples on his cheek when he laughed at parts of the book he read, you abandoned your original plan of working on your botany paper - plants are overrated anyway. Instead, you took out your books and spread them out on the table and played awkwardly with your phone for a moment while you tried to work up the nerve to break the ice. Just as you were contemplating it, he said something first.

“Hey, you’re the girl from yesterday, aren’t you?” he said. You quickly forgot about the game of candy crush on the screen and looked up at him.

“Y-yeah, I decided I kind of like this area of the library more,” you said. As soon as the words left your mouth, you realized that it sounded like you were planning on permanently invading what seemed like his territory in the library. You stuttered as you tried to explain yourself. “I- I mean I like this section. I didn’t mean to take up your table or anything. It’s just that the other tables are-” He cut you off.

“No, it’s fine. You’re not bothering me at all,” he said. Your heart skipped a beat when he smiled at you. “I’m glad you’re here actually. I think I have something that belongs to you.” He dug through his bag again to pull out a black, spiral-bound leather journal – your journal.

“Oh thank god,” you said, grateful that he was the first to approach the topic. “I wanted to give this to you as well.” You shuffled around the front pocket of your messenger bag for his and exchanged journals.

“Thanks,” he said. “Sorry about the confusion.”

“A-ah, it’s no problem,” you said and looked down and away from him, not wanting to speak the worries on your mind.

“I didn’t read anything, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said, as if he knew exactly what you wanted to ask. “I saw a few sentences at the end, but as soon as I saw the handwriting, I stopped immediately.” You sighed in relief, feeling like you’d been holding your breath for the past twenty-four hours.

“Thank you, I appreciate it.” You looked into his eyes and smiled shyly. “Likewise, I didn’t read yours either.” A pang of guilt pierced your chest when you lied to him, but soon the weight was lifted off of your shoulders when he brushed it off.

“I wouldn’t mind even if you did. That’s very courteous of you, though,” he laughed. “That journal must be pretty important to you, given your reaction when I gave it back to you.”

You hugged your journal close and nodded. “It's more than just a diary. I keep my entire life in this journal.”

“You mean like a horcrux?” He laughed again. Oh god, his smile. You internally begged him to stop looking at you with that gorgeous smile, yet secretly enjoyed it at the same time. A small smile crossed your lips in return.

“Not quite that literally,” you said. “I keep track of my assignments in the calendar in the back and I have a section for contacts. I have a few other sections in there too. One of them I use for venting about my botany professor.”

“And the others?”

“Ah…” you hesitated for a moment, even though he silently encouraged you to talk about it. His aura was very relaxed and non-judgmental so you wanted to talk about your writing - after all, it would be nice to have friends nearby that you can talk story ideas with. But your past reactions from your friends in high school kept you from saying much.

“I won't pressure you to talk about it if you're not comfortable. But unless it's about your plan to take over world with an army of bloodthirsty penguins, I won't judge you.”

“That's oddly specific,” you said.

“Look, a guy has to think about his future. Wouldn't want the competition getting ahead, you know?” He spoke with an easiness that made you feel like you'd known him for years. It was relieving to not have to struggle with the tortuous small talk that normally occurred between two strangers.

“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” you said with a laugh. “It's nothing quite that ridiculous. I like to write, so I keep that with me for outlining and writing down my story ideas.”

“That's actually really cool,” he said. The softness in his eyes reflected how genuine he was. “I have a lot of respect for that kind of thing. I like to write, myself. Well, not stories, but lyrics.” He patted the cover of his identical journal.

So they were lyrics.

“You must have quite a lot to study for,” he said, gesturing at the stack of notecards poking out of your bag. You winced at your then-abandoned English notecards and took a deep breath, trying to fend off any negative energy about your upcoming English midterms.

“Yeah, English midterms. It’s an oral exam, actually.” He nodded intently, encouraging you to go on, but you didn’t press the topic any further.

“I know most people don’t like to take help from someone they’ve barely spoken to for more than 15 minutes, but if you seriously need the help on it, I’d be more than willing to help you with your English. I’m actually pretty fluent,” he said. It’s not that you were shocked that he was fluent in English – actually, half of the lines you’d read the night before weren’t in Korean so you knew that there had to be some truth to him knowing more languages than it might first appear. You grabbed your stack of notecards and began to leaf through them, picking out the ones with orange and red post it note tabs on them and handing them to him.

“These are the ones I’m having trouble with the most,” you said sheepishly. He took them from you and you noticed that his large hands were surprisingly soft and extremely warm. He shuffled through the index cards for a few moments, taking note of any commonalities between them in order to pinpoint your problems.

“Are you having trouble remembering how to say them?”

“Yes. Why are there at least 30 different words with ‘ough’ in them, but only 35% of them sound similar?”

He read through some of the notecards aloud, “Tough, thought, though… You know, I actually prefer to draw on my flashcards to help me remember. Do you mind if I tried it?” You shook your head because he was being so kind just by helping you, and you certainly wouldn’t mind a doodle or two on your notecards to keep you interested in them. He began to draw on the side of one of your notecards and then handed it back to you a few moments after he was done with it. Off to the side of the word “tough” was a small line drawing of a puppy with a wild mane of hair on the top of his head between his two fluffy ears. He had a hairstyle much like the mysterious boy in front of you, and it made you giggle.

“Puppy?”

“Does he not look tough enough for you?” he asked, half jokingly.

“Well yes, but why a puppy?” you asked, your thumb absentmindedly tracing over the small drawing on the card.

“So the puppy says ‘ruff’, right? I like to think of the puppy because tough rhymes with ruff,” he said as he went through some of your other notecards, picking out the ones with the easiest associations and working his way up.

Apparently you needed more help than you realized because before you knew it, the two of you had been working on your note cards for more than three hours. The muscles in your lower back and neck ached, so you stood up and stretched for a bit, and that’s when you suddenly felt the familiar weight of sleep tug at your eyelids. You should probably get back to your room soon, but you were having a hard time resisting the pull of gravity into your chair. You were immediately pulled out of your state of drowsiness when the smooth voice of the library night staff rang out over the PA system.

“Attention BTSU students and faculty, the library will be closing in fifteen minutes. We will reopen at 7:00 AM tomorrow, with extended hours continuing through next Friday.”

You smacked your the palm of your hand to your forehead and groaned. You looked at the time on your phone, and sure enough, it read 11:45 PM.

“Something wrong?”

“The buses stopped running six minutes ago,” you whined.

“You live in the dorms? I can walk you back if you’re worried about being alone,” he offered.

You weren’t afraid to walk alone, but you were tired and not in the mood to walk all the way from the library back to your room with 50 pounds of books. If anything, having company on the way back would make the walk go quicker. You had zero reason to turn him down, to be honest.

“Sure. I’d like that,” you said softly, your cheeks turning a light shade of pink and butterflies welling up inside your chest. As you gathered up your things, you opened up the journal in your hands to make sure you had your own before tucking it safely in its place in the front pocket of your bag.

The moment you stepped out the side door of the library, the chill of the night made you shiver. A sign of early spring - the weather unpredictably wavered between warm and sunny with clear skies, and dreary and overcast with a chance of blizzards.

“Do you want my jacket? We’ve got a long walk back,” he said.

“No, I don’t want you to be cold because of me,” you said.

“I’ll be fine, but if you don’t want to that’s okay,” he said. Truth be told, you would have been more than happy to have the jet-black bomber jacket he wore around your shoulders. The cold radiated through your bones, but you suppressed your shivers the best you could. Your reaction was purely habitual, but you didn’t want to take it from him immediately after saying no.

The two of you walked down the main pathways in the center of campus to your dormitory building, a good distance apart, but still close enough for a small sense of intimacy. You looked up at the night sky between the trees every once in awhile to admire the stars. A harsh wind whirled past you so you could no longer suppress the chattering of your teeth and the shivering of your shoulders. As you were mentally kicking yourself for not thinking any better by wearing only a short sleeved shirt that evening, a heavy warmth enveloped you. You gladly welcomed the heat of the smooth satin lining and pulled it closer around you, slipping your arms through the long sleeves of the bomber jacket.

“You could have said something if you were cold,” he laughed.

“Thanks,” you said sheepishly. The tall outline of your 18-story residence hall suddenly came into view, with the lights from each room twinkling in the distance, and he paused.

“Ah, if you don’t mind I actually have to part ways with you here,” he said, gesturing toward the sidewalk where the path split into two: one path toward the dormitory and another toward the street where most off campus students lived.

“Oh, that’s fine,” you said. Suddenly you remembered you had his jacket, but as soon as you moved to give it back to him, he stopped you.

“You’re fine. You can just give it back to me at the library,” he said with a smile that melted your heart.

“A-ah, thanks.”

“See you next time, Y/N,” he said as he walked the other way and waved at you.

“Y-yeah, next time,” you stuttered, your heart jumping in glee.

When you got back to your room that night, you flopped onto your bed and whipped out your phone, replaying his words in your head as you recounted the day’s events to Yoonji and Kookie. You thought about his last words several times before a thought occurred to you.

How did he know your name?

You quickly pulled out your journal and searched through the contacts section toward the back, unable to remember whether or not you’d bothered to put in your own contact information “just in case.” As it turns out, your suspicions were correct. It was then that you noticed a small red sticky note poking out from the edge of another page in the very same section. When you opened it up to inspect the new addition to your journal, you noticed a new entry at the back of the section written in handwriting similar to that of the purple haired boy.

Name: Kim Namjoon

Phone: XXX-XXX-XXXX

Email: rapmon.knj@bighit.com

Hit me up anytime if you wanna talk about your stories ☺ -Namjoon

Next to his name, he left a small cartoon drawing of himself, complete with wild hair colored in with a purple sharpie.

Next time, huh?

[icecream-and-gadreel]

I Melt With You ch. 2

Story Summary: The day that Dean saved Gabriel after he fell overboard was the day they both fell for each other. With neither of their families approving of the relationship that threatens to bud, Dean must evaluate what he's willing to sacrifice, and so must Gabriel.

Chapter Summary: After gaining (slight) permission from John, Dean goes to pursue Gabriel. On the other side of things, Gabriel's been missing Dean like crazy, so when he pops up, he wastes no time bringing him onto his ship.

Pairing: Debriel (Sharkman!DeanxPirate!Gabriel)

Other characters: Sharkman!John, Pirate!Castiel, Pirate!Donna, Sharkman!Sam (Mentioned)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, Dean doesn't know what a dick is, suggestive kissing

Word count: 2100+

A/N: I couldn't help myself with the third leg jokes. Have you SEEN Richard Speight Jr.'s dick print? It's pretty impressive in size. Anyways, enjoy!

Eternity squad:  @mrswhozeewhatsis  @beriala @busybee612 @aprofoundbondwithdean @ign-is @icantthinkofaname-oops @catsoftheapocalypse  @purgatoan

Dean

“He's like a....a ferocious...little...” Dean's voice trails off as he waves his hands, a grin on his face. “A small...scary...brown-eyed dream,” he says, smiling. John continues silently swimming, and Dean follows closely behind him. “I really think you'd like him if you could get past the whole –”

“Glorified ape thing?” John asks dryly, snatching a fish as it swims past. “So your brother wasn't lying. You're dating one of those...things.”

“Yeah. He's a pretty thing,” he says, smiling softly, his eyes following the tiny fish as they scurry away.

“And he's scary?”

“Terrifying. Like he'd destroy me in a second,” Dean says, twirling around. “But I know he won't. I think he likes me, too.”

“Dean,” John sighs, shaking his head. As they reach the surface, John props himself up on a rock, waiting patiently for his son to follow suit. “Why couldn't you just marry Ariel –”

“Really? She hangs out with that annoying ass fish and a lobster,” he grumbles, crinkling his nose. “I couldn't look at them without getting hungry.”

“But Triton –��

“We don't need to kiss up to their kingdom,” Dean says, cutting John off. “If anything, they should be begging her to marry Sammy. He's a model prince.”

“I'd like to think that my eldest is also a model prince,” he says, chuckling and nudging Dean. “Why are you obsessed with dangerous situations?”

Dean furrows his brow, shaking his head. “I'm not...I just like power. You taught me that a powerful mate is everything.” He pauses, leaning toward John and raising his eyebrows. “Come on, when you met mom, she tried to squeeze you to death with her tentacles,” he says. John laughs in response, sighing. “Call Gabe what you want, but he's perfect.” John stares ahead, picking his tooth with his pinky nail as Dean talks. “His voice...his eyes...and I think he has another leg hidden."

“Another leg? Humans have two, I thought.”

“Well there was something big in his pants,” Dean grumbles, furrowing his brow. “Anyways, trust me, when you and Sam meet him, you're gonna be in love, too.” He gives his father pleading eyes, gaining a sigh in return. John pinches the bridge of his nose, reluctantly nodding.

“I don't like it. But you're an adult, do what you want –” He cuts himself off as Dean takes him into a bone crushing hug, rolling his eyes. “Your mystery man's on a ship. How do you figure you'll find him?”

“I got his scent,” Dean says, pulling out of the hug and tapping his nose. He slides down into the sea, darting away before John can get another word in.

–

Gabriel

Gabriel stares up at the night sky, closing his eyes as a gust of wind blows by. The air is salty and warm, and the ocean beneath them is calm, gently swaying his ship. A successful treasure hunt has his entire crew celebrating. Dancing, music, food, and lots of alcohol. But his mind is only on that god damn fish. He looks down as a pair of arms wrap around him, followed by soft humming.

“Donna,” he begins, looking back at her with a smile. He pauses, inhaling. She smells like pure whiskey. “You're drunk, sugar snap,” he whispers soothingly, patting her hand and turning into her embrace. She stares up at him with a lazy grin, her eyes hooded.

“Geez Louise, you speak the obvious,” she says, chuckling and closing her eyes. “Dance with me cap'n.”

“You know who loves to dance?” he asks, gripping her arms and gently urging them from around him. “Garth. Especially when he's drunk.”

“But I wanna dance with you,” she groans, perking up as the music changes to something quick. “Please?” she whines, her eyes closing.

“He won't, he's too in love to dance,” Castiel says as he approaches, two bottles of rum in hand. He forces one into Gabriel's hands. “Drink.” He turns his eyes to Donna, smiling and resting a hand on her back. “I'll dance with you, let him stew in loneliness,” he says, shooting Gabriel a quick glare. They both make their way down the stairs of the ship, and Castiel closes the door behind him, muffling the music. Gabriel goes back to staring at the night sky, swigging from the bottle.

Maybe he's being dramatic. He met Dean once, – he'd probably never see him again, what's the point of even thinking about him? Besides, it's only been three days since he last saw him, he shouldn't be missing him this much. He straightens up as a shooting star passes, chuckling to himself.

“I wish I could see Dean again,” he whispers. Just like that, something shoots up out of the ocean.

“Hey, sweetheart –”

“OH MY GOD!” Gabriel squeaks, punching it square in the nose and making it fall back into the ocean. Gabriel holds a hand over his mouth when he realizes that it was Dean, watching as the pissed off merman resurfaces. “I'm...soo sorry – ow!” he hisses as Dean punches him in the arm. Seconds later, their lips are together, and Gabriel is breathless.

“We're even,” Dean mumbles, bracing Gabriel's shoulders. “Tell me when I have to stop doing that,” he adds, chuckling. Even in the dim lighting, Gabriel can see the flush of his cheeks.

“You're actually here," he says, chuckling and looking around. He lands on his bedroom, and he strokes his chin. “How heavy are you?” he asks. Dean shrugs, hoisting himself up onto the boat and sitting on the edge.

“Why?”

“I wanna get you to my room,” he says. Dean smirks, biting his lip. “Not for anything dirty – to talk – fuck it.” He hooks an arm underneath Dean's tail, hooking the other around Dean's back.

“Ok, you might have a mean left hook, but I doubt you can –” Dean cuts himself off with a gasp as he's lifted, wrapping his arms around Gabriel's neck and holding on for dear life. “This is terrible put me down.”

“One second,” Gabriel says, slowly making his way toward his bedroom. Dean opens the door for him, glancing around suspiciously. The pirate quickly brings Dean into his bathroom, setting him down inside of his metal bathtub. “There you go,” he says, smiling to himself before meeting Dean's gaze.

“You're strong...you're handsome....when are we getting married, again?” Dean asks, frowning as Gabriel opens a cabinet. The pirate drags out a large bucket of water, turning to the other man with a frown.

“Do you need this heated up?” he asks. Dean gives him a taken aback look, his lips parting.

“Are you gonna cook me?” he mumbles, his face going blank when Gabriel laughs. “What? You put me in this giant pot –”

“It's a bathtub,” Gabriel says as he dumps the water over Dean.

“A what?” He scrunches his nose, looking almost offended. “This smells funny,” he says, sniffing once more. “There's no...I don't know, it's weird.”

“It's fresh water, no salt,” Gabriel says, sinking down to the edge of the tub. Dean gives him a perplexed look, looking like a confused child. “We don't like bathing in salt. How'd you find me?”

“You smell good,” Dean says, wrapping his arms around Gabriel's waist and nuzzling close to him. Gabriel didn't notice it before, but Dean's skin is splattered in pale freckles, and his shoulders are wide and stocky. He would make a good pirate. “That's how I found you,” he says, snapping Gabriel out of his thoughts. “I followed your scent.”

“My scent?”

“Mhm,” he says, his fingers gripping into Gabriel's shirt harder. “Hey, I got a question.”

“Yeah?”

“Do some humans have third legs?” Dean asks, turning his eyes up to the pirate. Gabriel slowly shakes his head, stiffening as Dean pokes at his crotch. “Then what's this? A fin?” he asks, frowning and poking it once more. “Holy shit, I thought it was big before, is it growing?”

“I'm gonna get you some clothes,” Gabriel squeaks, standing up with his face flushed. As he does, he gets a knock on his door, and he huffs. “Busy,” he yells, glaring as the door flies open anyways.

“Join us,” Castiel says, walking into the room with even more liquor. “It's so boring without you, captain.”

“I can't my – I mean Dean is here,” he says, pulling down a button up shirt from his shelf. Castiel frowns, flicking his eyes to the bathroom. He scowls when his eyes land on Dean, and he shakes his head.

“If you wanted a pet so badly, we could've gotten you a gold fish,” Castiel grumbles, gaining a glare from the merman.

“So I'm guessing he doesn't have to go far to find a douche?” Dean asks, smiling sweetly. Castiel unsheathes his homemade blade, quirking his lip up and heading for the bathroom. Gabriel holds his brother back, much to the amusement of Dean.

“Take it easy, sugar,” Gabriel says, chuckling and patting Castiel's shoulder.

“Sure. Take up for the fish,” Castiel hisses, snatching away from Gabriel and storming off. Gabriel frowns, lowering his eyes to the ground with a sigh.

“Look, man, I'm not tryin' to get in between you and your family,” Dean says, gaining Gabriel's attention. “I mean, I like you a lot – like so much -- but –” He cuts himself off as Gabriel throws the shirt at him, catching it with a furrowed brow. “Thanks...what do I do with it?”

“Put it on,” he chuckles as he pulls his shirt off. Dean hums in return, shifting in the bathtub.

“But you took yours off,” he cooes. Gabriel rolls his eyes, turning to Dean. He smirks at the awestruck look on the merman's face, shaking his head.

“I'm putting another one on,” he says, making his way to his clothes. “I know humans and merpeeps rarely get along, your family wouldn't like it either, I bet.”

“My brother hates it, my dad doesn't like it, but that isn't stopping me,” Dean says, chuckling. They both go silent, and the sound of muffled music fills the room.

–

Dean

Over the next few weeks, Dean's visits become more frequent, and soon he has a personal tub in each room of the ship, with all of the crew always awaiting his return. He and Gabriel's brother consistently butt heads, but at this point, he's decided against eating him. For now. Dean gives Donna a suspicious look as she dumps the hot water into his tub, immediately relaxing as it loosens the muscles of his back.

“Ok, I get it now,” he says, closing his eyes with a grin. She chuckles in response, pouring in another bucket, along with a small vile of pink water. He frowns, leaning up. “What's that?”

“Rose water. You smell like salt,” she says. He grins, showing off his rows of teeth.

“I live in salt. It's a good thing down there,” he says, rubbing the water over his arms. He and Donna look to the stairs as Gabriel comes down them, and Dean perks up, continuing to rub the water on himself.

“Get out” Gabriel orders, making Donna immediately scurry out of the room. He sits down in the chair next to Dean, letting his pirate persona disappear. “Hey sweetpea,” he says, smiling and running his fingers through Dean's hair.

“How'd the raid go?” Dean asks, leaning forward with a wide smile.

“Great...” he lets his voice trail away as he grabs Dean's hand, giving it a gentle sniff. “You smell like flowers,” he says, chuckling.

“Don said I smelled like salt.”

“You did, but I liked it,” Gabriel says, chuckling once more and pressing a kiss against Dean's hand.

“Yeah? Will I get fewer kisses if I smell different?” Dean cooes, wiggling his eyebrows. Gabriel answers with an array of soft kisses leading up the other man's arm, leaving tingles on Dean's skin. When Gabriel leaves a gentle bite on Dean's neck, he gains a stifled noise, and he pulls away immediately. “Holy crap,” Dean says, his face flushed and his chest heaving. Gabriel frowns, releasing Dean's hand.

"How do we..." Gabriel rolls his wrist, gaining a perplexed look from Dean. "Are you a virgin?"

"I haven't knocked anyone up if that's what you're asking," Dean says, chuckling. "Why, do you want to do more than kissing?" he asks, tilting his head when Gabriel nods. "What more is there?"

"Well...nevermind, I'm ok with just kissing," he says, smiling and pressing a kiss against Dean's neck. 

"Does it have to do with your magical growing fin?" Dean asks, eyes going wide as Gabriel nips at his skin. 

"A little," he whipers, pressing a quick kiss against Dean's lips. Gabriel snaps his fingers, standing from his seat. “That's why I came down here, someone's here for you,” he says. Dean frowns, leaning up.

“Who?”

“Another shark, Sam, I think?”

[readbookywooks]

ALL that night we were in a great bustle getting things stowed in their place, and boatfuls of the squire's friends, Mr. Blandly and the like, coming off to wish him a good voyage and a safe return. We never had a night at the Admiral Benbow when I had half the work; and I was dog-tired when, a little before dawn, the boatswain sounded his pipe and the crew began to man the capstan-bars. I might have been twice as weary, yet I would not have left the deck, all was so new and interesting to me - the brief commands, the shrill note of the whistle, the men bustling to their places in the glimmer of the ship's lanterns. "Now, Barbecue, tip us a stave," cried one voice. "The old one," cried another. "Aye, aye, mates," said Long John, who was standing by, with his crutch under his arm, and at once broke out in the air and words I knew so well: "Fifteen men on the dead man's chest - " And then the whole crew bore chorus: - "Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!" And at the third "Ho!" drove the bars before them with a will. Even at that exciting moment it carried me back to the old Admiral Benbow in a second, and I seemed to hear the voice of the captain piping in the chorus. But soon the anchor was short up; soon it was hanging dripping at the bows; soon the sails began to draw, and the land and shipping to flit by on either side; and before I could lie down to snatch an hour of slumber the HISPANIOLA had begun her voyage to the Isle of Treasure. I am not going to relate that voyage in detail. It was fairly prosperous. The ship proved to be a good ship, the crew were capable seamen, and the captain thoroughly understood his business. But before we came the length of Treasure Island, two or three things had happened which require to be known. Mr. Arrow, first of all, turned out even worse than the captain had feared. He had no command among the men, and people did what they pleased with him. But that was by no means the worst of it, for after a day or two at sea he began to appear on deck with hazy eye, red cheeks, stuttering tongue, and other marks of drunkenness. Time after time he was ordered below in disgrace. Sometimes he fell and cut himself; sometimes he lay all day long in his little bunk at one side of the companion; sometimes for a day or two he would be almost sober and attend to his work at least passably. In the meantime, we could never make out where he got the drink. That was the ship's mystery. Watch him as we pleased, we could do nothing to solve it; and when we asked him to his face, he would only laugh if he were drunk, and if he were sober deny solemnly that he ever tasted anything but water. He was not only useless as an officer and a bad influence amongst the men, but it was plain that at this rate he must soon kill himself outright, so nobody was much surprised, nor very sorry, when one dark night, with a head sea, he disappeared entirely and was seen no more. "Overboard!" said the captain. "Well, gentlemen, that saves the trouble of putting him in irons." But there we were, without a mate; and it was necessary, of course, to advance one of the men. The boatswain, Job Anderson, was the likeliest man aboard, and though he kept his old title, he served in a way as mate. Mr. Trelawney had followed the sea, and his knowledge made him very useful, for he often took a watch himself in easy weather. And the coxswain, Israel Hands, was a careful, wily, old, experienced seaman who could be trusted at a pinch with almost anything. He was a great confidant of Long John Silver, and so the mention of his name leads me on to speak of our ship's cook, Barbecue, as the men called him. Aboard ship he carried his crutch by a lanyard round his neck, to have both hands as free as possible. It was something to see him wedge the foot of the crutch against a bulkhead, and propped against it, yielding to every movement of the ship, get on with his cooking like someone safe ashore. Still more strange was it to see him in the heaviest of weather cross the deck. He had a line or two rigged up to help him across the widest spaces - Long John's earrings, they were called; and he would hand himself from one place to another, now using the crutch, now trailing it alongside by the lanyard, as quickly as another man could walk. Yet some of the men who had sailed with him before expressed their pity to see him so reduced. "He's no common man, Barbecue," said the coxswain to me. "He had good schooling in his young days and can speak like a book when so minded; and brave - a lion's nothing alongside of Long John! I seen him grapple four and knock their heads together - him unarmed." All the crew respected and even obeyed him. He had a way of talking to each and doing everybody some particular service. To me he was unweariedly kind, and always glad to see me in the galley, which he kept as clean as a new pin, the dishes hanging up burnished and his parrot in a cage in one corner. "Come away, Hawkins," he would say; "come and have a yarn with John. Nobody more welcome than yourself, my son. Sit you down and hear the news. Here's Cap'n Flint - I calls my parrot Cap'n Flint, after the famous buccaneer - here's Cap'n Flint predicting success to our v'yage. Wasn't you, cap'n?" And the parrot would say, with great rapidity, "Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight! Pieces of eight!" till you wondered that it was not out of breath, or till John threw his handkerchief over the cage. "Now, that bird," he would say, "is, maybe, two hundred years old, Hawkins - they live forever mostly; and if anybody's seen more wickedness, it must be the devil himself. She's sailed with England, the great Cap'n England, the pirate. She's been at Madagascar, and at Malabar, and Surinam, and Providence, and Portobello. She was at the fishing up of the wrecked plate ships. It's there she learned 'Pieces of eight,' and little wonder; three hundred and fifty thousand of 'em, Hawkins! She was at the boarding of the viceroy of the Indies out of Goa, she was; and to look at her you would think she was a babby. But you smelt powder-didn't you, cap'n?" "Stand by to go about," the parrot would scream. "Ah, she's a handsome craft, she is," the cook would say, and give her sugar from his pocket, and then the bird would peck at the bars and swear straight on, passing belief for wickedness. "There," John would add, "you can't touch pitch and not be mucked, lad. Here's this poor old innocent bird o' mine swearing blue fire, and none the wiser, you may lay to that. She would swear the same, in a manner of speaking, before chaplain." And John would touch his forelock with a solemn way he had that made me think he was the best of men. In the meantime, the squire and Captain Smollett were still on pretty distant terms with one another. The squire made no bones about the matter; he despised the captain. The captain, on his part, never spoke but when he was spoken to, and then sharp and short and dry, and not a word wasted. He owned, when driven into a corner, that he seemed to have been wrong about the crew, that some of them were as brisk as he wanted to see and all had behaved fairly well. As for the ship, he had taken a downright fancy to her. "She'll lie a point nearer the wind than a man has a right to expect of his own married wife, sir. But," he would add, "all I say is, we're not home again, and I don't like the cruise." The squire, at this, would turn away and march up and down the deck, chin in air. "A trifle more of that man," he would say, "and I shall explode." We had some heavy weather, which only proved the qualities of the HISPANIOLA. Every man on board seemed well content, and they must have been hard to please if they had been otherwise, for it is my belief there was never a ship's company so spoiled since Noah put to sea. Double grog was going on the least excuse; there was duff on odd days, as, for instance, if the squire heard it was any man's birthday, and always a barrel of apples standing broached in the waist for anyone to help himself that had a fancy. "Never knew good come of it yet," the captain said to Dr. Livesey. "Spoil forecastle hands, make devils. That's my belief." But good did come of the apple barrel, as you shall hear, for if it had not been for that, we should have had no note of warning and might all have perished by the hand of treachery. This was how it came about. We had run up the trades to get the wind of the island we were after - I am not allowed to be more plain - and now we were running down for it with a bright lookout day and night. It was about the last day of our outward voyage by the largest computation; some time that night, or at latest before noon of the morrow, we should sight the Treasure Island. We were heading S.S.W. and had a steady breeze abeam and a quiet sea. The HISPANIOLA rolled steadily, dipping her bowsprit now and then with a whiff of spray. All was drawing alow and aloft; everyone was in the bravest spirits because we were now so near an end of the first part of our adventure. Now, just after sundown, when all my work was over and I was on my way to my berth, it occurred to me that I should like an apple. I ran on deck. The watch was all forward looking out for the island. The man at the helm was watching the luff of the sail and whistling away gently to himself, and that was the only sound excepting the swish of the sea against the bows and around the sides of the ship. In I got bodily into the apple barrel, and found there was scarce an apple left; but sitting down there in the dark, what with the sound of the waters and the rocking movement of the ship, I had either fallen asleep or was on the point of doing so when a heavy man sat down with rather a clash close by. The barrel shook as he leaned his shoulders against it, and I was just about to jump up when the man began to speak. It was Silver's voice, and before I had heard a dozen words, I would not have shown myself for all the world, but lay there, trembling and listening, in the extreme of fear and curiosity, for from these dozen words I understood that the lives of all the honest men aboard depended upon me alone.